Callous Logic
by Ponaco
Summary: Still healing from his encounter with Amelia Zhao, Donatello must work together with his brothers to stop her before New York falls. Rated T for violence and adult situations. The sequel to "Click."
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: As promised, chapter one of the sequel to "Click." This takes place after the short companion piece "The Best Laid Plans." I would recommend reading that before the sequel as it will be referenced often. It is rated M for a reason, so if that is not your cup of tea you can use your imagination to fill in the blanks :0)**

**Also, perhaps of interest to some I have published a few writing prompt drabbles on my tumblr. They take place in the same AU as "Click," but do not have a direct impact on the story. If anyone wants to drop me a new writing prompt on tumblr feel free I'll do my best to answer them. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

It shouldn't take me this long. This is embarrassing and frustrating and more than a little maddening. The soldering iron keeps slipping, my thumb refusing to hold it in place against my finger. The scars on the offending digit resist any intricate movement and the more I try to press down the sharper the pain. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Getting frustrated won't solve anything. It'll just put me in a worse mood. Rome wasn't built in a day and injuries don't heal overnight. I'm going to get better. My hand will get better.

_You have to be patient, that's all. _

The soldering iron slides in my clumsy grip and the end burns a path across the top of my left hand. I throw it to the ground with a series of curses that would make Raphael proud and instinctively put the burn in my mouth. The unfinished motherboard stares up at me taunting with its bare spaces and useless connections. I heave it against the kitchen wall where it explodes into tiny pieces that clatter and dive across the counter top.

_Nice. Very patient. Master Splinter would be proud._

"Having trouble?" Leo asks from the doorway and my anger quickly fades to shame.

"Burnt myself," I grumble with my hand still in my mouth.

"Run it under cold water," he suggests as he opens the fridge and peers inside.

The water stings at first, but soon fades into a quiet numbing sensation. Leonardo is watching me, even though he's pretending not to. I turn off the water and shake out my hand.

"It's not bad," I say, turning to clean up my mess.

I'm not surprised when he takes hold of my hand to see for himself. I'm not surprised but it riles me to anger just the same.

"It's fine," I say slowly, pulling my hand out of his grasp.

"Uh huh," he murmurs, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the corners. "Put something on it so it doesn't get infected," he adds.

"Yeah," I say with a nod, agreeing with him in hopes that it'll end his henpecking.

He turns back to the fridge, taking out some left over pizza from the night before. "What were you working on?"

"Computer part," I reply, getting the distinct impression he's asking out of the need to fill the silence and not a real desire to hear about my latest project. "I need to upgrade."

He nods and takes a bite of food before snagging a plate. "What for?"

I pause for only a second. I'm sure he notices. There isn't much Leo doesn't notice. "Didn't think I needed a reason," I say with a shrug, dropping the broken pieces into the trash.

He chews slowly, mulling over my answer with a suspicious look I've seen hundreds of times on our father's face. How a turtle could mimic the facial expressions of a rat so completely was always a mystery to me. He's brewing up a lecture. I can see it forming behind his blue eyes. I'm sure he thinks I'm up to something. He isn't entirely wrong, but that doesn't mean I want to discuss it. If I needed his help I would ask for it.

"Leo! Get your ass in here!"

We both jump at the sudden shout, turning in unison towards the sound of Raph's voice. Leo forgets his lecture and pushes his food aside. I follow him out of the kitchen. I'm slowly getting better, but he's fast and when I reach the main room he has already joined Raphael in front of the television. They're both sitting uncomfortably close to the screen and Raph's jaw is clenched so tight I wonder how he isn't shattering his teeth.

I can't see the screen yet. I don't need to. I can hear the voice crackling out of the old speakers just fine. It's cold and unfeeling and I know it has the eyes to match. I haven't heard that voice in weeks, not while I've been awake anyway. At night however, on those rare evenings I manage to get enough sleep; that voice has been there waiting for me in the dark.

_She's going to find you. She's going to find all of you. Did you really think she would just let this go?_

I move to sit next to Raphael. His eyes flicker over to me and I stop him when he reaches for the off switch on the front of the television. He doesn't need to protect me from this. I keep hold of his hand in case he tries again and stare straight ahead at the screen. She's standing in front of a shiny, yellow ribbon with a pair of those over-sized novelty scissors clutched in her hands. It seems ridiculous and unnatural for someone so obviously bad and wrong to be holding and doing something so mundane and cliché. She leans towards the microphone and her voice turns my insides to ice.

_She's not even here. Get a grip._

"On behalf of the entire Corporation I am pleased to announce the opening of our new manufacturing center in the heart of the Lower East Side. Despite the recent attacks and actions of a few cowardly and vicious individuals we are prepared and ready to continue my family's proud history of not only impeccable business practice, but also a strong involvement in community development," she says, moving away from the microphone on heels that click along the pavement.

The group of suit-wearing men standing behind her part like the Red Sea when she approaches, scissors in hand. She cuts through the ribbon and all those gathered clap politely. The picture cuts back to the news anchor, blathering on about the philanthropic pursuits of the Corporation before cutting back to footage of the fire a few months ago. I feel a slight twinge of pride at the sight of the warehouse burning, but it doesn't last in the face of my unrelenting worry. Most things don't.

"Seems stupid to broadcast her new address," Raphael growls once the news story is over and the peppy meteorologist comes on screen with his frowny-faced snow clouds and predictions of a cold snap.

"Don't get any ideas," Leo says quietly and his pointed look is directed at both of us. "This doesn't mean anything…"

"It means they're back up and running, Leo," Raphael snaps. He climbs to his feet to pace the length of the couch. "It means we have to hit them again before they're at full strength," he looks down at me with a snort of air through his nose. "You think you can get through their security system again?"

"Enough," Leo says and he's on his feet before I can even nod in response. "I'll speak with Master Splinter. That's as far as this needs to go right now. We don't know if they're up to anything."

"Of course they are! She's evil, Leo! She…"

"I said enough!"

Raph takes a tiny step back at our eldest brother's tone. It's sharp and pointed and most assuredly finite. His eyes are narrowed at the corners and I see his gaze flicker towards me for less than a second before finding Raphael's glare. When he says 'enough,' he means it is enough in front of me. My face grows warm and I climb to my feet. I don't sway and there's a minimal amount of pain for which I am grateful. If he doesn't want to include me in their plans, that's just fine. I have work to do. I have my own plan.

"Where are you going?" Leo asks and I bristle at his accusing voice.

"To my room," I reply. "Is that all right with you?" I add. It's childish and petty and completely unnecessary but I'm feeling particularly irritable today and seeing Amelia has only heightened my bad mood.

Leo frowns and Raph's eyes open into near perfect circles as he waits to see how our growing argument might pan out.

"I was only asking…"

"Yeah, you're always asking," I mutter, turning my back on him. "Let me know what Master Splinter says. If I'm allowed to hear that is."

He takes hold of my arm and I resist the urge to pull away. "Donatello," he says, his grip tightening, probably afraid I'm going to flee. "This isn't…we have to be smart about this. If we have to attack we're going to plan, we're going to make sure it's the last time. We can't afford to fail," he says in his best stern leader voice. "We're going to work this together," he adds with a withering look in Raphael's direction. "I'll discuss it with Sensei first. Do you two understand?"

_He's right, you know. What did you plan to do exactly? Go after them yourself, genius?_

I pull free of his grip, but it is half-hearted and my anger and worry are trumped by the shame over acting like a pouty child.

"Do you understand?" Leo asks again, slower this time when neither of us respond.

"Yes," Raphael and I grumble in unison.

"Good. Put something on that burn," Leo says, jabbing a finger into my upper plastron before making his way to the dojo.

Raphael stomps and grumbles behind me and when I turn around he's shrugging into one of the oversized coats draped on the back of the couch. Panic is lingering on the edge of my thoughts. He's going to do something rash and stupid. He's going to get in trouble.

"Where do you think you're going?" I ask, immediately assuming the worst.

"Out," he mutters, zipping the coat up to his chin.

"But, Leo said…"

"I'm not making some suicide run. I just need to clear my head," he snaps, pulling on a fuzzy wool hat that makes it hard to take his angry tone seriously. "Don't wait up."

He leaps over the turn style without another word and I'm left standing alone with the annoying buzz of the television. I want to go with him. His freedom to come and go as he pleases fills me with a sudden rush of jealousy. I've been trapped down here for weeks. My one brief albeit mind-numbingly wonderful, escape only lasted a night and that was five days ago. I haven't been allowed to leave since and I am getting antsy. Just thinking of that night is enough to send a blaze of warmth throughout my body that settles in places embarrassingly low. Now isn't the time to think about that, there are more important things to consider.

_More important than the way her hand felt wrapped around…_

I take in a sharp breath and try to focus on the lingering sting of the burn across my hand and not the increasingly graphic memories monopolizing my thoughts. It seems wrong and selfish to feel happy when there's danger and quite possible doom on the horizon. I have work to do. My T-Phone buzzes against my shell and when I see April's name flash across the screen it becomes even more difficult not to picture our last night together. I clear my throat and bring the phone up to my ear.

"Hey April," I say, a smile finding its way to my face.

"Hey Donnie," she replies.

She sounds worried and I instantly feel guilty and worried all over again.

"Are you all right?" I ask, the words coming out in a fast jumble of syllables.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says quickly. "I just, did you watch the news?" she asks.

Her voice is quiet and worried and I have another reason to hate Amelia for making April sound that way.

"Yes," I reply and I try my best to sound reassuring. "Leo and Master Splinter are working on a plan. Everything will be all right."

She doesn't say anything for a few horribly long seconds and anxiety starts to tighten in my chest. "I'm coming over."

Now there's a new type of anxiety fighting for dominance. I haven't seen her since that night and I have no idea how I'm supposed to act. Talking on the phone is one thing. She can't see me blush or catch me staring at her. If she's standing right in front of me there's nowhere to hide. Am I supposed to talk about what happened? Or should I pretend like nothing has changed between us?

Not for the first time in the past few days I wish I had someone to confide in, someone to give me advice. I suppose I could have gone to Master Splinter, but the mere thought of discussing something so personal and private with my father makes me feel embarrassed and just a little bit sick to my stomach. I can't talk to my brothers. They wouldn't understand and when things most assuredly go bad they would never let me hear the end of it.

_Why are you even bothering to worry? She hasn't said a word about what happened. She obviously doesn't want to bring it up. She probably regrets it. How could she not regret it?_

I try to ignore the dark thoughts, but they crawl out from the bad place and chase away any of the lingering warmth. "Be careful," I say quietly.

I want to tell her to stay home. If she is going to act like it didn't happen, if she regrets it, I don't think I'll be able to face her. I'll understand, but that won't make it hurt any less. I won't be able to hide my despair. She'll see right through me. I won't be able to hide it. I don't want to make her feel bad. That's the last thing I want. She gave me something I never thought I'd have and I will be forever grateful. If that night was the only time, I'd understand.

_You didn't even deserve that, quit being selfish. Did you really think she'd want to do anything else once she realized how different you really are? Freak._

"I always am," she replies and some of the worry is gone from her voice when she adds. "I have a surprise for you."

_Wait…what?_

I clear my throat and stumble over a response. "Wh-what? What kind of surprise?"

"Well, if I told you it'd ruin it," she says with a quiet laugh that sends the dark thoughts scurrying back to their corners. "I'll be over soon."

I take in a deep breath and slide my phone back into my belt. I need to relax, I need to regain control. Even if those cruel and nagging thoughts are true, even if she doesn't want to be with me in that sense, she can still be my friend. It isn't ideal and it isn't what I want more than anything else, but it would mean I wouldn't lose her and that could be enough. Having her in my life is more important. She's my best friend. She understands. Her friendship is sincere and something I have never doubted, even at my most low. I won't pressure her into anything more. I won't blame her or make her feel guilty if she doesn't want to go any further. I can't risk losing my friend. I need her, maybe more than I ever realized.

We have work to do and we'll do it together. We can figure out anything together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Donnie/April fluff and Leo being secretive.  
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**Next chapter we see what Raph and Casey have been up to.**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

I shouldn't try to eavesdrop. If they wanted me to hear they would have invited me to join the conversation. I shouldn't try to eavesdrop, but they've been in the dojo for close to an hour and letting my curiosity takeover is better than focusing on the clawing, nagging anxiety over my impending visiting from April. I linger by the entrance to the dojo. I can hear the quiet rumblings of Master Splinter's voice. The exact words however, are still a mystery to me. I lean in closer, frowning when all it does is make the rumblings louder.

_He's going to catch you. Don't linger. He probably already knows you're out here. You're going to get in trouble._

I don't want to get in trouble. I hurry away from the dojo using all my stealth training. Leo had been right about one thing. I need to take care of the burn on my hand. My immune system isn't exactly back at full strength yet and the last thing I need is an infection. I riffle through the cabinet in the bathroom for some anti-bacterial ointment and wrap my hand carefully once the burn is properly cleaned.

The sting has faded and I'm sure it will heal completely in a few days' time. Without the welcomed distraction of treating the burn my anxiety rears its ugly head. I wish April would hurry up so I could get this over with. I lean in towards my reflection with a scowl. I'm not wearing my mask and the dark circles under my eyes are painfully obvious. I rest my forehead against the mirror, the glass cold beneath my skin.

_She's going to reach right into your chest, pull out your still beating heart and crush it in front of your eyes._

"Stop it," I grumble, pushing away from the glass.

She initiated the whole thing. She wanted it to happen. She called me handsome. Why would she do any of that if she didn't want to? If she didn't mean it?

_Pity, obviously, Genius._

The thought makes me feel sick inside. It isn't fair, not to me and not to her. April wouldn't do that and I feel guilty for assuming she might. I jump at a quiet knock at the bathroom door, my hearting racing. It has to be April. None of my brothers would bother knocking. They'd bust in without a second thought.

"Donnie?" she calls and I push down the very real possibility of panic.

"Be right out," I say, clearing my throat.

I turn on the water so it will seem like I'm actually using the bathroom and not standing and talking to myself in front of the mirror like a complete lunatic.

"I'll be in your lab," she calls back and I wait until the sound of her footfalls fades before turning off the water.

I stand up straight and take in a long, slow breath. I'm being ridiculous. I wait a few more minutes before making my way to my lab. I linger in the doorway, unable to keep from smiling when I see her. She's sitting at the computer desk, her backpack beside her. Her winter coat is draped over the back of her chair and she's wearing a soft, blue sweater of which I want nothing more than to run my hands over. I feel my face burn at the thought and lower my gaze so she doesn't catch sight of my dirty thoughts bold and obvious on my face.

"What did you do to your hand?" she asks.

The chair's wheels squeal and she's beside me, gently lifting my hand for inspection.

"Burnt myself on the soldering iron," I reply. "It's not bad. Just don't want to chance an infection."

"Uh huh," she murmurs.

She turns over my hand and kisses the underside of my wrist with a coy, little smile. I feel some of my anxiety melt away and I manage a nervous smile in return. She closes her hand around my wrist and pulls me over to the computer desk. I take in a deep breath through my nose, her scent flooding my head and clouding my thoughts with warm, shudder inducing memories. She lets go to pry open the backpack and I easily loom over her to snag a look.

"No peeking," she laughs, swatting my arm.

I take a step back and hold up my hands. "All right, no peeking," I promise.

"Now, it's a two part surprise," she says and when the zipper on the bag is fully open I can smell something delicious. "I thought you might be eager to eat something besides pizza so," she says, setting a brown take-out bag onto the desk.

"Pad Thai," I say with a grin and she laughs, opening the bag.

"Yes," she says, setting the containers onto the desk. "And surprise number two," she says, leaning over to pick up the bag. "I know you're feeling a bit trapped down here and you can't go on your usual scavenging runs so…" she turns over the bag and dumps out the contents onto the desk. "The technology department at school was just going to throw all of this stuff out. I figured you'd probably be able to make use of at least some of it."

_How can one person be so perfect?_

I reach out a tentative hand and sift through the pile of spare computer parts, letting out a sound that is embarrassingly close to a squeal when I grab a spool from under a spare fan. "Ooo, copper wire!" I exclaim, clearing my throat and trying to rid my voice of the high pitch that seems to be plaguing every word. "I mean, this will be very useful."

She laughs, but it's warm and cheerful and not at all mean spirited. "So you like it?" she asks.

I grin and wrap her in a hug. "Yes, very much, thank you," I say quietly.

I don't let go right away and before I can stop myself I lean down to take in another breath of her scent. It's animalistic and I chastise myself instantly for doing it.

_Don't be creepy. You don't need to give her any more reasons to think you're weird._

I'm about to let go and pretend like I didn't just smell her, but her moving, searching hands give me pause. She leans against me with a sigh and her fingers press and linger against the bridge of my shell. She stands up on her tiptoes and brushes a feather-light kiss along my collar bone while her fingers continue their path along my sides. I shiver and I can feel her smile against my skin.

"You're welcome," she says with another kiss. "I'm glad you like it."

I reach down and tilt her chin up so I can capture her mouth with a kiss. There's more than a little desperation behind it. I don't care. I want to chase away the dark thoughts; all of them. She's here, she's kissing me and touching me and she wouldn't do either of those things if she didn't want to. There are probably horrible things lingering on the horizon. Those cold eyes are still waiting for me in the dark. It doesn't matter. Right here and now the only thing that matters is the feel of April in my arms. I bite back a moan when her hands search lower, pulled painfully back to reality.

"We…we're not alone," I say with a nervous little chuckle and I glance at the open door to my lab.

"Hmm, I don't see anyone else here," she teases, but she stops short of pressing against my lower plastron. "Maybe after dinner you could show me your room?"

The thought of April and I alone in my room is almost enough to make me forget that the door is open and press her against the computer desk right here and now. Instead I focus my breathing and lean into one last kiss before pulling away with a dopey grin on my face. She laughs and blushes crimson and I resist the urge to reach out and run my finger along each and every freckle. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and seems suddenly shy when she isn't pressed up against me.

"Where is everyone?" she asks around a clearing of her throat. She reaches into the brown paper bag and sets out chopsticks and napkins before snagging an extra chair from the counter along the back wall.

I sit down and try to ignore the warm, heavy feeling that is making sitting more than a little uncomfortable. "Um, Leo and Master Splinter are in the dojo. I think Mikey is in his room and Raph took off after the newscast. Said he had to clear his head," I reply with a roll of my eyes.

April frowns. "You don't think he's going to go after her, do you?" she asks, prying off the plastic lid from the noodle container.

_Wouldn't put it past him._

"No…no I don't think so," I say with a less than convincing shake of my head. "He said he wasn't going to. Hopefully he's not that stupid after what happened last time."

"I'll tell Casey to keep an eye out for him," April says, snapping apart her chopsticks before fishing her phone out of her coat pocket. "He shouldn't be running around up there by himself," she mutters, aggressively typing out a text message.

I nod and carefully pull apart my own chopsticks. I can't decide if it will be less of a struggle to try and use them with my injured hand or my non-dominant one. Either way I feel like there will be a lot of dropped noodles in my future. April hands me a plastic fork without calling attention to it and I set the chopsticks aside with a tiny sigh.

_You can't even eat properly._

"What were you working on?" She asks, digging into her food.

"Computer," I mumble around a forkful of noodles. "Need to upgrade."

"Can I help?" she asks, forming the question as though I'd be doing her a favor allowing her to help and not the other way around.

I nod with a smile. "Of course," I say quietly. "We'll have a lot of work to do."

She looks thoughtful as she chews. "Do you have a plan?" she asks.

"The plan is to wait for Master Splinter to decide our next move," Leo's voice says from the doorway.

His tone is hard and unwavering and I curse his ability to move in silence.

_Wonder how long he's been standing there._

"And while we wait it probably can't hurt to upgrade the lair's security system," April replies with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Leo meets her gaze and for a moment I think they're going to argue. The hostility never fully surfaces and he offers a shallow nod instead.

"That can never hurt," he says, still lingering just inside the doorway. "Where's Raphael?"

I wince and he sees it before I can hide it.

"Where did he go?" he demands, his hands forming into fists at his sides.

"Just out for a run," I say with a shrug. I look down at my food to avoid his accusing stare, wincing again when he speaks.

"And you didn't think to tell anyone?" he says, sounding angry and appalled all at once. "What if he goes off and attacks that woman on his own? It isn't safe for us to be out there alone right now. I thought you understood the seriousness of the situation, Donatello. You should have told Sensei and I…"

"Raph is with Casey," April snaps, stepping in front of Leo to wave her phone in his face. "He's fine, they're patrolling," she puts a hand on her hip and her foot starts to tap out an annoyed pattern on the ground. "And if anyone understands the seriousness of the situation it's Donnie, so don't you dare…"

"That's…thank you, April. That's all right," I say quickly, stopping her before she says something she might regret later or something I might regret.

She scowls and crosses her arms over her chest with a huff. Leonardo is watching her with that even, solid stare usually reserves for when Raph throws a tantrum or Mikey is particularly unfocused. April raises an eyebrow in challenge, showing no intention of backing down under his gaze. He shakes his head and holds up a hand to signal that he means no harm.

"Sensei wants us to wait, so we wait," he says and the fight is gone from his voice. "We can't risk anyone getting hurt again," he adds and I can't help but feel guilty at his defeated tone.

"We'll be ready this time, Leo," April insists and her arms lower to hang tense at her sides. "We're all on the same page here. You don't have to worry."

His mouth tugs at the corner. It's not quite a smile, although under better circumstances it could grow into one. "I always have to worry," he replies. "It's my job."

April smiles and this time it is genuine and the sarcasm and anger is gone. "Come on," she says, reaching out to take hold of his hand. "Have some dinner. There's plenty."

She flips over the lid of her portion and starts dividing up the noodles before he can deny the invitation. She slides the lid across the desk and hands him the last remaining fork. His swords rattle in their scabbards as he sidles up to the desk and awkwardly moves the food around the make-shift plate. I look between the two of them and slowly let out the breath I was holding.

"It's good," I say quietly with a wave of my fork towards the food Leo has still not tried. "You'll like it."

He takes a tentative bite before eating with more enthusiasm. He looks tired. I don't know what he and Master Splinter talked about in the dojo, but whatever it was it's weighing on him. I won't push the topic now. I'll wait until April goes home. He'll be more willing to talk if it's just the two of us. I have the distinct feeling he knows something the rest of us don't and I'm not going to let him keep it secret for long.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: Raphael POV for this chapter. As a side note, in my AU Casey's parents are divorced and he lives with his father. His mother however, is very much alive. The turtles have not met any of Casey's family and I'm not sure if I stated it before but Casey and April are Seniors in high school and everyone is around 17-18 years-old.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

Raphael

It's freezing. I curl my hands into fists as I run hoping it'll keep them warm. I refuse to wear those ridiculous, fuzzy mittens Mikey loves so much no matter how cold my hands get. The rooftops are covered in ice and snow and my feet slide until I have to grip the building's ledge to keep from toppling to the ground below. I hate winter. The only good thing is the night is longer and I can leave the lair without having to worry about the light of day.

I need to find a fight. I need to find someone to punch so I don't go after the person I really want to hurt. Her dark eyes and smug face flicker across my mind and my lip curls back into a snarl. I know Leo is right about this, no matter how much it irritates me. We need a plan if we're going to take her down for good this time. If we're going to destroy her. There's no other option. She has to pay. He thinks he understands; so does Master Splinter. They don't. They weren't there. They didn't look into her eyes. They didn't hear what she said she'd do to us. They weren't idle threats. She'd do all of it given the chance. I'm not going to let it happen. We're going to destroy her. I'm going to destroy her.

My T-phone buzzes against my shell and it sets my teeth on edge. Leo probably noticed I was gone and is calling to give me an earful. I fumble with hands stiff from the cold, sliding my thumb across the screen that's already fogged with condensation. It's Casey and I feel some of my anger slip away. If anyone will understand my need for a fight it's Casey. He won't lecture or judge. He'll laugh and fight at my side.

**Meet me at the rink, Loser.**

I roll my eyes at the text and slip the phone back under my coat. I head in the direction of the ice rink, grateful that I'm no more than a few blocks away. I only have to circle the roof for a few minutes before Casey's brash voice drifts up from the ground below. I peer over the ledge, spotting him to the left of the main entrance. I stop short of calling out when I see that he's not alone. She's short and curvy with blonde hair flowing out from under her pink, winter hat. Her voice mingles with his and I cringe when every one of her sentences ends with an upward lilt like she's constantly asking questions.

"And so I told him, if you think you're going to pull a fast one over on Casey Jones you've got another thing coming."

She laughs and it sounds like someone is squeezing a cat. "Oh, Casey you're so brave," she squeals. I feel a little sick inside. "What if he…"

She continues to blather on, but I tune her out. Years of Master Splinter trying to force me to meditate are finally paying off. I fumble inside my coat for my T-Phone, uncertain of how much more I can take.

**Oh, Casey you're so brave.**

I send the text and lean over the ledge. He must have the ringer cranked up as high as it's able because I can hear the fog-horn he has set for his text alert all the way up on the roof. He pulls his phone from his pocket and lets out a snort of laughter. I can tell he wants to scan the rooftops, probably to flip the bird, but he won't for fear of giving me away.

"That's uh, that's really great, Tina," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand still clinging to his phone. "But uh, I gotta get going. I need to watch my little sister," he says, the lie sounding so far from the truth I can't believe she actually falls for it.

"Aw, that's so sweet of you," she says with a nauseating coo.

I turn away when she takes a step closer with obvious intent. Eavesdropping and making fun of Casey is one thing, but I'm not about to watch that. I climb down the fire escape, dropping into the alleyway. I let out a string of muttered curses when I land in an ice-covered puddle. I try to shake off the slush with little success. The damage is already done and my feet sting from the cold. The last thing I want to do is go back to the lair. I'll deal with the discomfort.

"Thanks, Ass," Casey mutters and a snowball splatters in my face while I'm distracted. "She almost saw that."

I snarl and slop together a hastily made snowball that's mostly gravel and slush. "You didn't call me here to watch that disgusting display did you?" I ask, heaving the snowball at his head.

He tries to duck out of the way, the snowball hitting him in the back of the shoulder. "Ow, that had rocks in it!" he exclaims, wiping off the sludge from his jacket. "And you're just jealous."

Jealous. He's lost his mind. Why would I be jealous of that cat-screech sounding idiot? I bristle under the weight of my jacket, resenting the pull and restraint against my shell. I cross the few feet between us and punch him in the shoulder with perhaps too much force. He grunts his disapproval and tries to retaliate with a swing of his own.

"So what do you want?" I ask, catching his fist and pushing him backwards.

"Thought we could go for a patrol," he says with a shrug.

He's avoiding my eyes. Casey Jones is many things, but a good liar is not one of them. I've been set up. He's trying to babysit me. Someone told him I was up here on my own and he's making sure I don't do something stupid. A bitter, unpleasant taste settles in my mouth and I recognize it instantly as betrayal. I expect this from Leo. I'm sure he's behind it. He probably forced out my location from Donnie. He's an easy mark. Casey, though, Casey isn't supposed to take orders from Leonardo. He should have told me right away. We would laugh about it and then go beat up some Purple Dragons. He's not supposed to play along and treat me like some kind of loose cannon.

"Oh, patrol, huh?" I ask, not even bothering to tone down the sarcasm dripping from the words.

"Uh…yeah," he replies, stumbling over the words. "I mean, I know it's cold out, but…"

"Who called you?" I demand, pushing him. "It was Leo, wasn't it? What did he say?"

"What? No, no man. Leo didn't call me I swear," he says, ducking away from another shove.

"No?" I reply, rounding on him again. "You sure about that?"

"Yes, ow! Knock it off, ya psycho!" He says, pushing me back.

"Who called you?" I say again, grabbing hold of his arm when he tries to punch me. I bend it only until I feel resistance, but it's enough to get him mad. "Tell me who called you," I insist, bending his arm just a tiny bit further when he stomps on my foot.

"Ow! Geez, all right, fine! April, April texted me, all right!" he cries, stomping on my foot again when I don't move. "Let go! I told ya!"

I drop his arm and take a staggering step back. My foot was already stinging from the cold and now it's practically throbbing. "April?" I say with a curl of my lip.

That can't be right. He has to be lying. April is mad at me. She wouldn't care if I was up here alone. Or if she did she certainly wouldn't care enough to call Casey to watch out for me. Casey glares and rubs his arm with a frown that is boarding a pout.

"Yeah, April. About this tall, red hair, bad temper," he grumbles, rolling his shoulder around with a grimace. "I think you dislocated my shoulder."

"Your shoulder is fine," I grumble, quickly changing the subject back to the more pressing matter. "What did she say?"

He moves his arm one last time with another wince and mutters. "That you saw that boss lady on the news and freaked," he replies, picking up his bag from where he dropped it. "Thought it might not be safe for you up here alone, asked me to check in on you."

I grind my teeth and ball my hands into fists. "I can take care of myself."

He holds up his hands and shrugs. "Hey, I know that, man. It was either I agree or Leo was gonna come up here and drag you home. Thought you'd like to bust a few skulls instead. If you don't want to hang, that's fine, I'm not gonna force you. I'm no babysitter."

I relax my fingers and step away from the edge of the red place. Casey doesn't deserve that. He gets it. I feel a pinch of shame at the edge of my thoughts and if this was polite society I would probably apologize. I don't need to though. He knows I didn't mean anything by it. I wiggle my toes and grimace at the lingering pain that has crawled up under the wraps around my ankles. All I want is to get warm. I hate the winter.

"April needs to mind her own business," I grumble in place of an actual apology.

Casey snorts in reply and I know everything is all right between us. A little misunderstanding and casual violence is nothing to hold a grudge over.

"I don't really see that happening any time soon," he says, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Come on, it's freezing out. Let's go to my place. There's left over lasagna."

I'm instantly uncomfortable. I've known Casey for years, but I've only ever been to his family's apartment a handful of times and never actually ventured inside. I must look reluctant because he adds with a toothless grin.

"Don't worry, man. Dad is working late and my sister is spending the weekend at Mom's," he says, climbing up the fire escape without giving me a chance to decline the offer. "If we hurry we can catch the Rangers game," he adds.

The snow and ice slows me down, but it practically immobilizes Casey. The short trip across the rooftops takes three times longer than it should and by the time we reach his apartment I'm so cold I don't care about my earlier reservations. I just want to be inside and out of the freezing wind. I wait impatiently on the fire escape, stamping my feet and shoving my hands into the pockets of my coat. It feels like an eternity until the lights flicker on inside and Casey's face appears at the window. He pretends to struggle with the lock and I narrow my eyes.

"Open the damn window, ya idiot!" I say with a warning slam of my fist on the window pane. "Or I'll break the glass!"

He pretends that he can't hear me until I hit the window frame again. He cackles and flips the series of locks. The old window fights back, sticking in its runners and it takes our combined efforts to open it enough for me to pass through. The sudden warmth of the kitchen burns against my frozen skin and I can't hold back a shiver that starts in my toes and zig-zags up my spine. Casey is already foraging through the fridge, still wearing his winter coat. I close the window and stand awkwardly just inside it.

The kitchen is small, with all the normal things a kitchen is supposed to have. We have a very similar kitchen in the lair. This is different somehow. It's surrounded by windows and there are family photos and old birthday cards and scribbled drawings stuck to the fridge with novelty magnets. There are a pile of text books on the counter and more than a couple dirty dishes in the sink. The small, round table at the center of the room is covered in a yellow table cloth that has seen better days and a stack of mail sits in a decorative bowl that was once probably meant for fruit. It's just a kitchen, a normal kitchen, a human kitchen and it fills me with a twisting, painful feeling in my chest that I can't quite place. All I know is that I don't want to stay here. I don't belong here.

"Score, Dad has some beer stashed away back…hey. You all right?" Casey asks, emerging from the fridge with the remains of a six-pack dangling from his fingers and a tin-foil covered lasagna pan tucked in the crook of his arm.

I'm not. I'm not all right. I won't admit it though. I can't pinpoint the source of my discomfort, but I have the sinking suspicion it has everything to do with those snake eyes glaring out from the darkness. I nod and turn my attention to prying off my coat. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about her. We're not going to get anything done tonight, even though every piece of me is screaming to do so. They all thought I was going to go running off and take her on by myself. They think I can't be trusted. I tried that once and I failed. I got caught and I nearly got my brother killed. I want to destroy her. I want to hurt her like she hurt us, but I'm not going to make the same mistake twice.

"Just cold," I say around a cough. "It's like an ice cube in here."

The half-truth is enough for him and he cackles out a laugh. "Dude, you guys are always cold. Maybe if you didn't run around naked…"

"I've got a coat on, jackass," I snap, waving the long sleeves in his face. "This place is still freezing."

He laughs and dumps the food onto the table. "Fine, all right, I'll turn up the heat if you're chilly," he says with an exaggerated pout and a fake shiver.

His laugh turns into a grumble of pain when I punch him in the side. I don't stop him from cranking the thermostat and soon the feeling starts to return to my fingers and toes. He races into the family room to turn on the hockey game, blasting the volume so he can hear every word of commentary while he re-heats the lasagna. He tosses me a beer and I roll the cold can against the palm of my hand before popping the top. It's not my first drink and it most certainly won't be my last. It's something that only ever seems to happen when I'm with Casey and I can't think that Master Splinter would approve, but what Sensei doesn't know can't hurt him.

I think this is what people do, what other eighteen-year-olds do. They go to their friend's watch the game and have a couple beers. It's nothing I would ever do with my brothers. Not that it wouldn't be fun or that they wouldn't enjoy it. It's more selfish than that. This is my thing. This is our thing. I don't have much that is mine alone and I'm not ready to share. I'd never tell Casey. He wouldn't let me hear the end of it and he'd be right to tease me.

It's stupid. I'm stupid. It's nothing special. It's just left overs and some cheap beer and a less than thrilling hockey game. It's nothing special to almost anyone else, but I've never had a friend before. This is new and different and mine. For at least a couple hours I can forget about everything else. I can push aside her pinched face and the memory of her cold voice. I can forget her unfeeling snake eyes and the sound of Donnie's shell cracking when the blond guy kicked him. I can forget how I let everyone down, how I almost cost us something too horrible to even think about. For a few hours I can pretend none of that matters. For now, there's food and drink and a good friend to share it with. For right now I'm just like everyone else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: This is my first attempt at a Leonardo POV so please be gentle. Donnie POV will be back next chapter.**

**A huge shout out to _Servantofclio_ who had some very helpful insight into this chapter and Leo as a whole. **

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><p>Chapter 4<p>

Leonardo

"And then, he started going on and on about how awesome he is because he cracked the encryption on his new cell phone," April said with a roll of her eyes and a twirl of her chopsticks. "So, I told him that I have a friend who builds phones from scratch and he said…"

"You shouldn't talk about us," I say immediately.

The need to chastise her is like a reflexive tug in my stomach that can't be stopped. Secrecy is so ingrained in our very existence that even the slightest affront to it makes me cringe. She should know better. We can't be found out because she felt like showing up a classmate. Donatello doesn't seem to share in my indignation. He taps his plastic fork along the side of his food container and stares at me with half-lidded eyes and a sideways frown that is anything but supportive.

"I wasn't," April says with a slow blink, holding her hand to her chest as though she's aghast at the very suggestion. "I wouldn't. I just told him it was a friend. I'd never go into specifics."

"Yeah, Leo, April knows the rules," Donnie adds, quick as ever to rise to her defense.

There's a tiny smile moving across his face and I know he's probably more concerned and preoccupied with the fact that April was bragging about him to strangers; even if there weren't specifics. I sigh, regretting it when I see April's eyebrows knit together in concern. I turn my attention back to the remains of my food. I've lost my appetite, but shovel in another mouthful for show.

"You just have to be careful," I grumble, moving the rest of the noodles around the make-shift plate with no intention of eating them.

An awkward silence hangs heavy and my words fall with nothing to soften the blow. Donnie continues his annoyed fork tap and I reach out my hand towards his wrist before another tap can fall. He grumbles low in his chest and drops the fork into the container. At least he actually ate something tonight. April clears her throat and says in a voice that is a little too loud and a little too cheerful.

"Well, it's late and the weather guy said the snow is only going to get worse. I better get home before Dad starts to worry."

She pushes away from the table and starts to gather her things. Donnie is on his feet, shifting from one side to the other before bringing his hands up to grasp the strap across his chest. "Do you want me to walk you home?" he asks tentatively.

"You're not going anywhere," I say before April has the time to even consider an answer.

That pulling, guttural instinct takes over once more and I can't care that it sets off a new scowl on my brother's face. If he won't or can't take care of himself properly I'll do it for him. I'm not going to back down because he's mad I embarrassed him in front of his girlfriend. That word sends a pain, sharp and deliberate at the base of my skull. It seems wrong, even just thinking it. We're not supposed to have such things. They're not meant for us and in the end it's only a distraction from what's important. I care about April. I would go as far as to call her sister, but we're a team and this team only has four members. There's guilt hanging on the edge of those thoughts, layers of it, oceans of it. I can't focus on the guilt right now. I have more important things to worry about.

"I'm…"

I know he's going to say he's fine. He's not fine. It's been his constant refrain these last few weeks and I stop him before he can say it yet again.

"I'll take April home. You have your training with Sensei."

She's going to argue. They both are going to argue. I don't have the energy for it. I am so sick of them arguing with every last thing I say. I expect it from Raphael. I'd be worried if he didn't argue with me. I'm used to it. Insubordination on Donatello is another thing entirely. It needles at me and undermines my confidence. It's out of the ordinary and I don't have a usual tactic to rely on in the face of it. He's persistent and tries to use logic or just wares me down with that passive aggressive way he has worked into an art form. It's exhausting to combat and I don't have time for it.

"It isn't safe to go alone," I insist, adding. "For anyone."

She nods and I try to hide the great swell of relief when she shrugs into her coat without complaint. Donnie is still pouting, but he also stays mercifully quiet. April leans forward and kisses him between the eyes. Her hand lingers on the side of his face and I turn away to give them some semblance of privacy. That angry twinge at the base of my skull is back and I push it aside. It makes me feel petty and childish and I'm not either of those things. They share a few whispered words and I tighten my jaw until there's a rushing sound in my ears to keep me from overhearing. I don't need to know what type of things she feels can only be whispered to my brother.

"Let me know when you get home," he says quietly and I leave the lab to let them say their goodbyes.

I shrug into a winter coat, instantly resenting the garment as it snags and tugs against the katanas strapped to my shell. I leave the coat unzipped and reach back to make sure I can still pull my weapons free without restraint. The cold slide of the metal leaving the scabbard is a comfort. It always is. It's familiar, an extension of my arm, it defines me. The few, sharp and precise moves of the blades through the air are enough to ebb the worst of my anger and frustration.

"Ready to go?" April asks quietly.

She's dressed in her winter coat with her book bag strapped to her back. I slide the blades back into their scabbards and pull the balled-up hat from the pocket of my coat. Donnie is still lingering in the doorway to his lab. He moves his jaw slowly from one side to the other, only slightly disturbing the deep frown spread across his face. He's mad. He's not going to say anything. He'll silently glare and let it stew. I'm sure I'm in for a fight later.

"Yes," I say, covering my head. The wool hat itches and I crinkle my nose in dislike.

She waves goodbye to Donnie. He lets go of his scowl long enough to wave back before narrowing his eyes at me once more. I ignore it and motion for April to follow. The tunnels are cold. The damp, biting kind that makes my joints ache. It will only get worse once we go above ground, so I stay underground for as long as possible. It may take a little longer to reach our destination, but it's safer and thankfully sheltered from the wind and snow above.

"So…what did Master Splinter have to say?" she asks, her voice echoing up towards the arched ceiling of the tunnel. "What's the plan?"

It was too much to hope that she'd let us walk in peace. I close my eyes and take in a slow breath. I don't want to talk about this with her. In truth there isn't anything to talk about. Master Splinter doesn't have a plan, I don't have a plan. I'm as much in the dark as the rest of them. It's unacceptable. It's humiliating and fills me with a bitter rage that nearly makes my hands shake. We're up against an enemy that we know nothing about. How am I expected to lead when I don't know what we're fighting? It's failure at its purest and I'm not prepared to admit to it. Not now. Not here.

"I told you," I mutter. "Master Splinter is going to meditate on it."

April's hand rests on my arm and I instantly feel guilty again for snapping at her. It isn't her fault. I shouldn't take out my frustrations on her.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly, even though I'm the one who should be apologizing and it sends another stab of guilt through my chest. "I'm…I'm nervous. I talk when I'm nervous," she adds with a smile that waivers at the edges. "I know you and Master Splinter will figure out a way to stop her."

She squeezes my arm before dropping her hand. We fall into silence again until we reach the surface. I push aside the manhole cover and make sure the coast is clear before helping her up into the alleyway. The wind is bitter even between the cover of the two buildings and despite my better judgment I zip up my coat. She ducks her head into the wind and we shuffle and move through the snow towards her apartment. My feet sting by the time we reach it and I regret not wearing boots. Stepping out into the street she pauses and turns to look at me. The wind catches her hair and tiny snowflakes cling to her skin.

"Leo," she says and my name is like a sigh on her lips. Not a happy, content sigh, but one that has reached its limits. "I don't…I don't mean to tell you how to do your job and I know you just want what's best for your brothers."

By brothers she of course means Donatello and I square my shoulders and ready a barrage of comebacks that will put her in her place. She thinks she knows best. I've known him his entire life, who would know him better than his family? My anger must show and I'm ashamed I'm being so obvious. A ninja should have control over his emotions. I should be in control, but I'm tired and the cold is stringing my exposed skin. That is not an excuse. There are no excuses. I should be in control. I'm about to brush off her comments with a nod and a wave of my hand. She isn't going to let me. She's stubborn and persistent and only more so when it concerns him.

"But you might want to lighten up, just a little," she says and her voice falters. "He's…he's trying Leo and it isn't easy and," her voice breaks this time and she raises her hand to her mouth, shame flashing in her eyes at her own loss of control. "He isn't getting better. His hand…he's not going to get better, is he?"

No, he's not. My chest tightens and I look away so I don't have to see the tears starting to spill from her eyes. Master Splinter isn't hopeful. He confided in me his fears and it stripped away any remaining hope I clung to. It shouldn't surprise me. I saw what was under those bandages. I can see the thick, ropey scar tissue now and how he struggles to complete the smallest of tasks. His hand might improve, but he will never be better. He will never have the grace and calculated movement that was such a part of him and I don't know what he'll be without it. I turn completely. I can't talk about this now. It's another failure in a long line of failures and it burns and stings brighter than the others. I can't admit it out loud, especially not to her while she stands in the snow and begs me to deny it with tear-filled eyes.

"You should get inside, April," I say instead, saying enough by ignoring the question. "Your father must be worried."

"Leo."

My name isn't a sigh this time. It's sharp and angry and I wince at the sound of it.

"He's going to need his brother, not a leader," she says pointedly.

I cringe at her words and when I muster the courage to face her she is already halfway across the street. I don't call out. I don't try to justify my actions or explain myself to her. She thinks she understands, but she doesn't. None of them do. I have to be hard on them as Sensei is hard on me. It's my job, my duty, my responsibility. If he wants to be coddled he can turn to Mikey. He might not get better, but I have to make sure he can at least defend himself. He's still a member of this team and he has to be prepared. I know my brother. I know what he needs, no matter if others think I don't.

I'm angry by the time I reach the lair. I can feel it rolling off of me in waves and I almost rip the zipper on the offending jacket as I tear it from my body. It's late and our home is quiet. I'm thankful for the emptiness of it. I need to center myself. I need to meditate and I can't do either of those things surrounded by noise and distraction. The door to Donnie's lab is open and beyond it is only darkness. It's too much to hope for that he actually went to bed at a decent time. He can't let things rest.

I've been gone for almost two hours. His training with Sensei must have ended ages ago. Our father is nowhere to be seen and yet Donnie is still there, still training. His movements are sloppy and unfocused. He's exhausted and slow, but still he's training. I can see his knees tremble and each raise of his staff is a little too low and not quick enough to properly complete the kata. He bends to spin the staff behind his back and it slips from his right hand. The resulting clatter on the ground seems louder and more offensive than it should be. His hands ball into fists at his sides for only a few, frustrated seconds until he sighs and bends over to pick up his weapon.

"Forty seven," he grumbles.

He lowers into his fighting stance and starts from the beginning. He drops the staff sooner this try and his grumbled, forty eight, is clipped short with anger. I take a few steps into the dojo.

"You need to keep your back straight," I offer.

He whirls around at the sound of my voice and nearly drops the staff again. He clutches it to his chest with his left hand and stares at me with that scared, ashamed look he gets when he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. His color seems off and even standing seems enough to make his knees tremble. He should be in bed. I don't understand why he is so against sleep.

"I know how to do it," he replies and I shouldn't be surprised that my advice is unwelcome.

"Where is Master Splinter?" I ask, changing the subject before he becomes more defensive.

"He went to bed," he says with a shrug that is more like a roll of his shoulders. "I thought…I could use more practice," he says and he lowers his eyes.

He shifts uncomfortably on his feet and stares mournfully at his right hand. It's curled into an almost claw-like shape at his side, hanging limp and useless. I should be helping him train. I might not be able to fix his hand, but I can help him regain his strength and I should have been doing that all along. I can find him another weapon. Something that isn't so dependent on the use of two hands. I should have had a plan. I knew this was coming and I ignored it instead of facing it head on. I have failed him yet again and the realization makes my anger boil to the surface.

"I'm sorry," I say with a bitter shake of my head. "This…I should have known this would happen. I'll make a plan, I promise. I can put together a regimen. I'm sure I can find you a new weapon that will be easier to wield. It may take some time, but I'm sure I can…"

I trail off when I catch sight of him. It isn't a look I'm accustomed to seeing on his face and it sends my train of thought screeching to a halt. His eyes are narrowed and short, angry breaths of air force their way out of flared nostrils. His shoulders tense and roll slightly forward while the hand that holds his bo staff shakes. He's furious and hurt and I take a small step backward, prepared to defend myself if he strikes.

"Oh, no, Leo. Go on," he says with a voice that is only anger and sarcasm. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize how difficult this is for you," he says with a bitter wave of his injured hand. "Please, do tell me what you can do to make this all better."

I don't respond. I stand there, dumfounded, blinking and gaping at him like an idiot. I'm just trying to help. I want to help. I'm trying to do my job. I'm finally confronting this and he resents me for it. Resent isn't a strong enough word. There is loathing in his eyes and something very close to betrayal and it's painful to witness. He shakes his head when I remain silent and some of the anger melts away into hurt and the clench of his jaw falls to the tiniest of trembles. He drops the staff onto the ground with a clatter and makes to flee. I grab his arm before he can and he only resists for a fraction of a second. The fight is gone from him.

"I'm trying," he says and the words are desperate and pleading. "I know…I know you all think it's going too slow and it…it doesn't look like I'm improving, but I'm trying, Leo. I just," he sighs and lifts his hand from his side. "I can't get it to do what I want it to, but I'm trying."

"I know," I reply and his shoulders slump. "I know you are, but you shouldn't have to do this alone. Let me help, Donnie. I only want to help."

He nods and I won't force the topic. I know how difficult it is to admit you need help. I understand that struggle and how it borders on humiliation. He's been brought low enough these last few weeks. I don't want to be a part of bringing him lower. I only want to help. I wrap him in a hug and it is terribly awkward at first and he does nothing to reciprocate. I'm about to let go when I feel his arms reach back and hold on to me with a strength I didn't expect.

"Thank you," he says and the words are little more than a whisper, but they are nothing if not sincere.

"You're welcome, brother."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Donnie POV is back this time around, with some brother time, soldering and Donnie embarrassing himself. **

**The next chapter will have some of the mystery behind the corporation revealed. **

**Thanks to everyone who has liked or commented on this fic, there have been some very kind and insightful comments. You guys are awesome and I love reading what you think. Thanks again!**

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><p>Chapter 5<p>

"Like this?" Mikey asks for the nineteenth time. I've been counting.

"Yes, like that," I reply.

It is taking all of my strength and composure not to lose my patience with him. He's trying to help. I asked him to help. The last thing I need to do is snap at him or chew his head off for doing something wrong or taking too long. He hunches his shoulders and leans over the table with a look of such intense concentration you would think he was about to perform surgery.

_How can someone take this long to solder something?!_

"Right there," I say, pointing to the spot on the motherboard with the end of a chopstick.

Mikey solders the new piece in place. He leans back with a giant sigh once he's finished and runs the back of his hand across his sweat-covered forehead. Raph glances over the top of his magazine with an amused glint in his eyes. Mikey only agreed to help if we could work in the kitchen. He said it calms him to be in his element. Unfortunately that meant we had an audience; a smirking, smug audience who felt the need to grumble a running commentary at our every move.

"This must be killing you," he snickers in my direction.

_It is. It's like torture, slow, horrible, torture._

"All right, now see this part?" I say, sliding it across the table towards him. "You need to attach it here so it has a connection with the last one," I explain, doing my best to ignore Raphael.

He has been in a surprisingly better mood since returning from his nighttime run last night. I wouldn't call it a good mood, but at least he isn't yelling and growling at everyone who crosses his path. He has to be feeling more like himself if he feels the urge to tease me. Mikey looks down at the remaining computer parts with a mournful sigh that makes his shoulders rise and fall dramatically.

"You mean that wasn't the last one?" he asks and he looks so pitiful I can't make him work anymore.

_You're never going to finish this. How do you expect to get past their security system without the proper equipment?_

"Uh, yeah, actually, that's good for now," I say with a smile I'm sure rings false. "Thanks, Mikey."

He's so relieved I'm letting him off the hook he ignores my obvious lie. "Awesome," he says with a grin. "I'm garbage at this."

He slides off the stool with an excited hop, all of his nerves gone in one leap. "You want to watch TV?" he asks, opening the fridge to forage for a snack.

"Sure, I'll be out in a minute," I say with a shallow nod. "Want to clean up first."

He snags a box of left over pizza from the fridge and tucks a two liter bottle of grape soda under his arm. He practically dances out of the kitchen, so relieved to be free from more work. I wait until he is out of the room before my disingenuous smile falls all the way into a frown. I wanted to finish this tonight so I could get started on the real work. It should have been quick. If I could do it myself it would have been. This is supposed to be where I fit. This is supposed to be where I shine. The one thing I have that I have complete confidence in. If I can't fix things, if I can't build, what good am I?

_Useless. _

"Where does it go?"

Raph's voice makes me jump. I am so lost in my own, dark thoughts I didn't hear him step up beside me. He looks amused that he startled me, but doesn't go the extra step to rub it in. He pushes me aside and sorts through the remaining pieces with one finger before picking up the soldering iron.

"If you don't show me I'm just going to start sticking these wherever they fit," he says with a shrug.

My eyes open wide in horror at the very thought and I'm shook back to my senses. I pick up the chopstick and point exactly where he needs to affix the next piece.

"Clean off the iron first," I instruct, before moving the chopstick aside to give him room.

He's quicker than Mikey, apparently not concerned if he makes a mistake or not. His hand is steady though and surprisingly precise. I try not to hover. I can't help it. I want to pry the iron from his hand and finish this for myself. I scratch at the raised and puckered scar along my wrist and wince when he picks up the next piece with a rough jab of his finger. He notices and rolls his eyes.

"I'm not gonna break it, calm down," he grumbles.

"I am calm," I reply adding with a shrill tone that is anything but. "Careful, that's too much solder!"

He slowly turns a glare in my direction and I offer a sheepish smile in reply. He picks up the next part and waits for me to show him where it goes before soldering it into place. I clench my jaw shut to keep from back-seating soldering.

"Did you know April told Casey to babysit me last night?" he asks.

I blink, the question seems to have come from nowhere but I have the distinct impression that he's been sitting on it since coming home. I take longer than I should to reply. I'm guilty now by association. I clear my throat.

"I…uh, I knew she sent him a text," I say, pointing to the next piece in hopes that it will distract him. "I'm sure she didn't say babysit. She…we were just worried. It isn't safe to go up there on your own right now. Don't be mad at her."

"I ain't mad at her," he says.

I'm not entirely convinced. His jaw tightens and we settle back into an uncomfortable silence. He finishes putting the last piece in place and I show him how to clean off the motherboard with a soft bristled toothbrush. I hold it up to the light, inspecting the different connections and making sure everything is properly attached. Raph dusts his hands off and picks up his magazine.

"So, what do you have planned?" he asks casually with a rustle of the pages.

I blink and shift awkwardly on my feet. Plan is a bit of an exaggeration. I have an idea. I have the start of an idea. I certainly don't have anything worth sharing. Once I get through their security system, once I see what it is Amelia is hiding, then I can have a plan. Then I'll be ready to talk about it. Raphael doesn't like to be kept waiting.

"I know you must have some plan rattling around up there," he says, pressing his finger between my eyes. "So what is it?"

I swat his hand away. "I don't…"

He pokes at me again and there's an evil glimmer in his eyes. I hate that look. It never ends well for me. "Either you tell me what you're up to or we can invite Master Splinter in here and you can explain what actually happened when you spent the night at April's," he says with a lecherous grin.

I take in a sharp breath and my face burns with crushing embarrassment, the weight of it making my shoulders slump. He can't know that. There is no way he can know that. I didn't say a word and April wouldn't. He's grasping at straws. He's assuming. I should have laughed off the threat and denied his accusations. Instead I blush and gape and stammer my guilt with a stream of terrified vowel sounds. Raphael's eyes turn into perfect circles and his pupils shrink to pinpoints. I want to die.

"I…I was kidding," he mumbles. The shocked words rumble off into a disbelieving laugh and somehow my blush burns brighter. "Geez, Don."

_He's right. It is funny that she would do anything like that with you. That any woman would want to. He's going to tell everyone and they'll all have a good laugh._

I feel sick to my stomach and my heart tightens in my chest. I need to leave. I can't stand here and listen to him laugh at me…at us. I never wanted any of them to know about that night; him most of all. It is private. It's secret and wonderful and something I was going to hide away for when I was alone. It is supposed to be mine, ours and no one else's. I never wanted it pulled out in the open; just another excuse for them to laugh at me.

_You're ridiculous. You're going to cry, aren't you? Pathetic._

"Shut up," I mutter.

I try to sound stern or angry and only manage hurt. I push away from the table, paying no mind when the stool crashes to the floor. The sound cuts off his laugh and he grabs hold of my arm before I can flee. I pull in an attempt to break free and he tightens his grip. I consider kicking him in the shins, but I'm sure he would just deflect my foot.

"Dude, calm down. It was a joke."

_If he says calm down one more time..._

I push him, not expecting it to make much difference. "It isn't funny," I growl.

"All right," he says quietly. "I didn't mean nothing by it."

He holds up one hand, still refusing to loosen his grip with the other. I give another tug and he finally lets go. I roll my shoulders and lower my gaze to the table. I clean up my equipment and gently lift the completed motherboard into my left hand. I won't ask him for help ever again. Even if it takes me hours I will finish this myself. I don't need help.

"Donnie…"

"I said shut up," I snap, finally finding the sternness I was grasping for.

"Did you…I mean, you guys," he stammers, apparently immune to my demands that he close his mouth. "That's…wow."

_Wait. What?_

He isn't laughing, not anymore and there isn't a hint of teasing or cruelty clinging to his words. His brow is furrowed and he seems to be struggling with some grand internal dilemma. I don't know how to respond to that. I am ready for a fight. I am ready to defend myself. I am not ready for the growing look of awe on his face and the slow way he shakes his head in disbelief.

"You two, ya know…"

My eyes grow large and the blush is back with a vengeance when I finally understand what he's assuming. "No," I say quickly, shaking my head. "No, no we didn't, not…that, no," I stumble and stammer through a denial. "We…I mean, there was stuff…not that."

_Shut up, idiot!_

I clamp my mouth shut and wonder if it is possible to die of embarrassment. I could never be that lucky. He's starting to smile and that can't mean anything good.

"What kind of stuff?" he asks with a smirk

Despite all of his earlier bravado and pessimism he sounds genuinely curious and eager to hear details. I haven't forgotten what he said about April and I or what I'm fairly certain he said to her. He can leer and smirk and play at being buddies all he wants. I'm not having this discussion with him. I shake my head and lift my chin in defiance.

"It's none of your business," I say and he rolls his eyes.

"Fine," he replies with a snort. "Be that way."

He reaches out and snags me around the neck. I'm forced to lean forward and he drills his knuckles into the top of my head. I hate when he does that and he knows it. I squirm and elbow him in the chest until he lets go. I scowl and make sure he didn't dislodge any of the components on the motherboard during his roughhousing.

"So, you're going to hack their security system, aren't you?" he asks, his playful manner gone in the space of a blink.

"I'm going to try," I admit, eager to latch on to any topic that doesn't concern my night at April's. "We need to know what they're hiding."

He nods. "I'll help you finish your computer," he says, not forming it as a question. "The sooner you can get started on the real work the better."

My pride doesn't want me to accept his help. Logic however knows that I might need it. "I haven't…Leo doesn't know," I say.

He shrugs and I should have known better. As if keeping something from Leonardo was ever a deterrent for Raph.

"We'll tell him when there's something worth telling," he says, adding with more than a touch of venom. "It's not like he and Sensei are all that eager to share their plans with us."

I don't like the implication there. I don't like being kept in the dark either. I also don't like the idea of having an accomplice in my plans. If it is just me it isn't much of a plan to speak of. It's me, in my lab, working a project like I always do. If there is someone else involved it means discussion, it means foresight and intent. It means purposely going behind Sensei's back, behind Leo's. I'm not a very good liar and as the last few minutes indicate I'm not the best at keeping secrets either. The thought of attempting either makes my stomach squirm into a knot. Raph must sense my unease because he throws his arm over my shoulder.

"It's only research," he says as if reading my mind. "As soon as you find something we'll go straight to Master Splinter…all right?"

"All right," I say with a sigh.

"Excellent," he says with a grin that does little to lessen my reservations.

He scoops up the remainder of my supplies and the smirk is back.

"Did you at least see her naked?" he asks and my instant blush is the only answer he needs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: This chapter was a bit of a struggle to finish and is a bit longer than most. Some more brother time and Donnie/Science. Enjoy.**

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><p>Chapter 6<p>

Raphael is not the best lab partner. He's a big proponent of the 'good enough,' line of thinking and that just won't do. I try to finish as much of the work I can on my own, but there are some things my clumsy, useless hand can't do so I have to rely on him. No matter how much his fast and deliberate movements make me cringe anytime he gets close to something that needs more of a delicate touch. I wince and grunt yet again when he snaps the fan into place like he's mad it. He snorts and turns a glare in my direction.

"I swear, if you make that noise one more time," he threatens with a shake of his head.

"You just...these parts are fragile, Raphael," I insist. "You have to be delicate…please."

He's not amused by my pleading and his glare settles into a scowl. "I'm not going to break it," he says, crossing his arms over his chest in challenge.

"It's fragile," I say again, coming close to losing it when he presses down on the outer case of the computer tower until it groans. "Careful!" I cry, scowling when he smirks. "Ha ha, hilarious," I grumble, searching through the toolbox for a screwdriver.

"You have got to relax," he says, punching me in the shoulder. "You'd think a guy who was gettin' some wouldn't be wound so tight."

He's baiting me. He's trying to get me to rise to anger. He's trying to bother me. It works.

"Shut up," I snap, punching him back.

He laughs and takes another swing. I'm too slow to block and his fist lands only centimeters away from the healing crack along my plastron. It was an accident. He didn't mean it. That doesn't mean it hurts any less. I pitch forward and wrap my arms around my center. A strangled cry rips from my throat and I keep my eyes closed until the pain dulls to a quiet throb. When I manage to look up the expression that settles on my brother's face is nothing short of terrified.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't…I'm sorry," he stammers, pushing my arms aside to see if he caused any damage. "Are you all right? Lemme see. I'm sorry."

"I'm fine," I insist, trying to hold back another wince. "It's fine."

He doesn't stop fretting or let me return to my work until he's certain he didn't hurt me. I press the side of the tower in place and hold out the screwdriver to him expectantly. He stares down at it miserably.

"Come on, we're almost done," I say, waving the screwdriver at him. "Help me with this."

He snatches the screwdriver from my hand. "I'm sorry," he mumbles yet again.

I know what he's really apologizing for and I don't have the energy for that talk. He blames himself for what happened. He went off on his own, when I begged him not to and it almost got both of us killed. He didn't apologize when I woke up, my shell filled with resin that smelled so strongly it turned my stomach. He didn't apologize when Master Splinter had to clean out the wounds on my hand or when my head spun so badly I fell out of bed. He didn't say the words, but I knew he was sorry. Of course he is sorry.

"It's fine," I insist. "No harm done," I add, even though that isn't necessarily true.

It's true enough. We close up the tower in silence and I scoot around my desk, plugging it in all the necessary cables and cords.

"All right, moment of truth," I say, flicking the switch.

The computer whirs to life and it's a wonderful, glorious sound that signals a job well done. The monitor clicks on and I hunch over the keyboard with excitement.

"Did it work?" he asks and his voice is a little more gruff than usual.

"Looks like it," I reply with a grin. "Good job, Raph."

He cracks his head from one side to the other, clearly uncomfortable. "I'm sure you could have done better yourself," he mumbles, never one to take a compliment gracefully.

"Well, obviously," I say and the lack of tact gets the eye roll and smirk I was aiming for.

I expect him to make a hasty retreat. I can type on my own. Not as quickly as I once could, but at least I don't need assistance. I'm a little surprised when he takes a seat and rustles open his magazine once more. He catches me watching him over the top of the paper and the ridge above his right eye rises.

"You want me to leave?" he asks and there's more weight behind the question than I'm willing to deal with right now.

I shake my head. "No, course not," I reply, hunching over the keyboard. "This could take a while though."

He shrugs and turns his attention back to reading. "I've got nowhere to be."

I lose track of time. I tend to when I'm busy. There are programs to load and code to write and lots of work before I can rest. Mikey wanders in and out of the lab, trying to coax either of us out for a TV break or something to eat. I wave off the offers with an apology and keep working. I let Raph deal with the more insistent demands of our youngest brother and soon their bickering fades to a persistent buzz in the background. As long as they don't break anything I don't care what they do. At some point a cup of coffee is put on the table beside me and I mumble a thank you before draining half the cup in one gulp.

I'm making progress. The typing and mouse-clicking is taking its toll on my hand and wrist. The pain starts as an annoyance; a low, steady ache that has grown into a sharp jolt that shoots to my fingertips with every click. I'm going to ignore it I've decided. I'm making progress and that is such a wonderful feeling following weeks of forced bed rest I am not going to let a little thing like pain hold me back. Someone tops off my coffee and I assume it is Mikey. I murmur another thank you and keep typing.

_Click, click, click._

I'm ready for the real work. There is no more preparation or programing I can use as an excuse to avoid it. My stomach twists into a knot and I sit back in my chair to stare at the computer screen. My neck and back twinge in protest and judging by the way my body aches I must have been hunched over the keyboard for several hours. Mikey isn't in the lab anymore, I'm sure he lost interest hours ago, but Raph is staying strong through the boredom. I rub my eyes and flex my fingers, searching for another distraction. I try to tell myself I'm not afraid.

_Of course you're afraid. Don't you think she'll be expecting you to try this? She'll be looking for you, waiting. The second you try to get past the security system they'll trace you. You're going to get caught and she's going to find the lair. She's going to find you._

"You done?" Raph asks from the floor where apparently he has been doing pushups.

"Umm, well, I'm done with the prep work," I mumble, the words rough in my dry throat.

"That was just the prep work?" Raph says with a disapproving grunt. "No wonder you never sleep."

I ignore the dig and roll my shoulders back with a slight grimace. My hand shakes when I try to close it into a fist, my thumb and fingers fighting my silent commands to move. I know what I'm doing. This is what I do. This is where I know I belong, the only place I know I belong. This is what defines me. Fix it Donnie.

_Then why are you just staring at the screen too scared to move? Pathetic._

The cold, snake eyes are only supposed to wait in the darkness, but now they're here in the cold, gray light of my lab. I see them when I blink. I hear the click of her heels across the floor and the memory sends a fresh wave of pain from the crack along my plastron. I should be better than this. She can't get me here. She can't get any of us. I can break through their security without a problem. I'll sneak in and out. They'll never know I'm there. I'm a ninja in more ways than one. I got this. Then why can't I make my hands move?

"You all right?" Raph asks.

I shake my head no. "Raph…we need to tell Sensei," I say quietly and his face falls into a scowl.

"Tell him what?" he growls, pushing to his feet. "There's nothing to tell him. You haven't done anything but fix your computer."

My stomach gives another pain twist. "We should tell him what we're going to do," I insist. "What if…I don't think I can do this," I admit.

My words are so quiet and whimpered I hope Raph didn't hear me. I don't usually get what I want.

"Of course you can," he says and he sounds furious. "You did it before when you were barely conscious," he growls, taking hold of the back of my chair. "Don't let that bitch get in your head, Donnie. We're taking her down and this is how we're going to do it. You're smarter than her. You're smarter than her whole stupid corporation. So start acting like it."

His nostrils flare when I don't respond and I'm pretty sure he's going to hit me.

"We're taking her down, Don," he says and some of the anger slides away.

There's a glint in his eye and it isn't the usual flare of rage. It is fear and shame and the twinge of self-doubt that usually stares back at me in the mirror. I've seen it hundreds of times before, but almost never on him. It shouldn't be there and I feel like I'm intruding for having seen it. I want to look away, pretend like it didn't happen. He won't let me. He holds my gaze and faces that painful glint head on. Raphael doesn't hold his punches, even now.

"I need you with me on this, Donatello."

_You're not the only one who is afraid. Get it together. You have a job to do. Fix this._

I nod. "Right…yeah," I murmur, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. "I got this."

I sound confident, at least slightly confident. I stare forward at the screen and don't move. I tell myself to move. I flex my fingers and only wince a little bit when a sharp pain snakes up to my elbow. I can practically feel Raph breathing down my neck and his impatience is doing very little to calm my nerves.

"I got this," I say again, more for my own benefit than my brother's.

_Click, click, click._

I have to block out the bad thoughts. I have to forget the snake eyes in the dark and the too bright memory of being helpless, beaten and humiliated. I have a job to do. This is what I'm meant for. There are numbers and problems and pathways that need forging. I got this. It's like any other project. No different than breaking into the city's power grid or stealing cable. I just have to find a way in. There is always a way in. Code and program can act like shadows and I live in the shadows.

I'm lost in the work once more. I know my brother is still in the room, but I block out everything besides the faint notion that I am not alone. I have to focus. There can't be any distractions. The pain is gone and the stiffness in my joints ignored. I don't have time for that now. It will come rushing back later, when there isn't work and I struggle to find sleep. The pain can wait there when I'm ready to face it.

The sight of the corporation's logo is enough to make my chest tighten and my pulse race. I push past it. I won't let it frighten me. I am not so easily beaten. I got this. The system is far more advanced than before. There is no denying that she put the time and effort into improving the defenses. It doesn't matter. Raph is right. I'm smarter than them. I can get through. It may take some time. I might have to get creative. It doesn't matter. I will get through. She can't hide from me. I won't let her.

Time is something of an abstract concept. I may have been working for a few hours or days, it is all the same to me now. It is laser focus and it is singular thinking and it is how I get the job done. If I have a problem I fix it. Time is inconsequential. There is a way in. I can feel it before I see the proper pathway. It's like an itch at the back of my mind, a clawing, persistent drag that demands I celebrate before the moment of discovery is actual and real. It tries to trick me into thinking I've done it, but I know better. I won't celebrate until there is no doubt I have succeeded. The wait makes it all the more sweet when I fall a few more deliberate keystrokes and I'm in.

"I did it," I mumble and my throat is painfully dry.

I sit up straight and my entire body protests at the sudden movement. The muscles in my arms and legs cramp and twist with agony that threatens to ruin my small victory. The pain is back and it brought friends. There's a tense, horrible noise that fills the room and it takes me a few seconds to realize it's me. I curl forward and attempt to move and stretch my limbs to shake out the muscles. There's movement to my right and Raph must have fallen asleep on the small cot along the wall. He's not asleep anymore. Most likely awaken by the straggled throat sounds I made.

"You all right?" he demands, crossing the room in a zig zag pattern on his sleepy feet.

"Y-yeah, just some muscle cramps," I grumble with another shake of my hand and roll of my shoulders.

Raph leans over the desk and stares intently at the computer screen. "Is this…good?" he asks, with a small wave of his hand at the scrolling code with a frown.

The pain is lessening and movement is easier and I allow myself a smile. "I think so," I reply with a tired laugh. "It's a start at least. She bulked up the security for sure, but every program has weakness if you look long enough. You see this configuration here, well, I had to…"

"That's great, Don. So what is she hiding?" he asks, stopping me short of actually explaining the process.

_Shut up and fix it, Donnie. No one wants to know how it's done, they just want results._

I bristle in my chair and my short-lived smile falls back into a frown. I shouldn't let it bother me so much. Its wounded pride and I know what Master Splinter says about pride. It stings and irritates all the same. I worked on this for hours and he can't even let me talk about it for thirty seconds. I know he won't understand a word of it, but that doesn't mean he couldn't listen. I take in a slow breath and when I let it out it's a sigh.

"I don't know," I admit, any success I was feeling leaves my body with that sigh. "I'm through the first security level, but it is going to take some time to search around and get my bearings."

"Search around what?"

_Great._

"I umm…"

I start to mumble out an excuse or a lie or anything that even resembles words, trailing off when I see the scowl on Leonardo's face. We've been found out. There's no point in denying it. I'm not the best liar anyway, he would see right through me. Raph is on his feet and places himself between me and our older brother, blocking his view of the computer. He's been in my lab for hours and I'm sure he's itching for a fight.

"None of your business," he snarls. "If you need to know something we'll tell ya."

I roll my eyes and let out an aggravated sigh. I'm not in the mood for their bickering and I have no desire to be stuck in the middle of it. I turn my chair back to the desk with every intention of getting back to work.

"I told you to wait for Master Splinter," Leo replies. His words are sharp and biting and dangerously close to a growl. "We need to plan our attack. We need to be smart about this," he takes a step forward, pushing aside Raph's hand when he tries to stop him. "You couldn't even wait a couple days before disobeying…"

"We ain't disobeying anything," Raph says and there's another shove. "You don't have a plan to disobey!"

"And you do?!" Leo replies, finally raising his voice. "Your last plan ended with you getting captured and Donnie almost beaten to death…"

"Shut up!"

My shout catches them by surprise and I'm about to tell them both off with the new-found courage their shocked faces give me. I don't get the chance. A small, troublesome beep sounds from my computer and I whirl around in my chair to investigate.

"Uh oh," I mumble.

Raph's hand clamps down on my shoulder and he focuses his anger on the screen.

"Uh oh? What do you mean, uh oh?"

"Well, you see this here…like I was trying to tell you before, the security parameters are on a cycle, just like the door codes, but it isn't random, there's a pattern. I just had to figure out what that pattern is. So I created my own program that has been running different, possible codes in the background and…"

"Why uh oh, Donnie?!" he asks again, his grip tightening on my shoulder.

I frown and point at the screen. "See this? It's Kraang."

Leo is standing beside us now, his fight with Raph apparently forgotten. "She's working with the Kraang?"

I shake my head and click through the new folders as I gain access. "No…I don't think so," I crinkle my nose and lean forward. "This is a translator. They're translating intercepted Kraang communications."

"What kind of communications?" Leo demands.

"Hmm, well, pretty much anything they can intercept. These seem to be schematics," I say, clicking on a folder marked 7B-45.

My blood runs cold when a detailed plan for a small, metal tadpole shaped object fills the screen. Instinctively I grab my wrist, feeling the raised and jagged scar along the skin. The memory of that thing moving inside my arm is enough to make my stomach roll. I click through the schematics. There are plans for further production and detailed lists of inventory. Blowing up the warehouse only set them back a few weeks. She's going to keep making those canisters. I need to know why.

"They're making more canisters," I say quietly. "They're trying to incorporate Kraang materials and technology with their own."

"Why would they do that?" Raph asks, his grip not letting up.

"I don't know," I admit with a little shake of my head as I sift through another file folder.

Another, updated version of the metal tadpole flickers across the screen, the entirety of this version written in English. I read through the plans as fast as my eyes can move, mumbling quietly to myself as I go. The slight rolling of my stomach has upgraded to a nauseating pang and I try to close my hand into a fist to keep it from shaking.

"Mind control."

"What?" Raph demands his hand so tight on my shoulder it hurts.

"The…the…tadpoles, the nanobots get beneath the skin where they grow and multiple until they're big enough to attack the nervous system to reach the brain. When that happens whoever is controlling the bots can influence anyone who is infected," I explain.

"Control them to do what?" Raph asks. His voice is a growl again and his anger is back, bright and barely held in check.

"I don't know," I say with a sigh. "This is just a plan, a blueprint. It's how it works, not why."

"I'll get Sensei," Leo says and he's all business again. "Keep looking, but be careful."

I nod, but I've already tuned him out. I have work to do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: April POV for this chapter. In this AU Irma is a human because I always have a need for April to have friends beyond the turtles and I like to think Irma would be a good one.**

**There is some PG-13 fluff in here as well, so you have been warned if that's not your thing. **

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

April

Finals seem horribly irrelevant compared to everything else that's going on in my life. How important can economics be when there's potential doom on the horizon. My father wouldn't agree. Or at least he wouldn't if I told him what happened in the last few weeks. He doesn't need to know. It would only make him worry or worse, forbid me from seeing the turtles. He has been hell-bent on planning my future as of late. I was able to placate him for a while by sending out my college applications, but now that finals are in full swing he's at it again.

My excuses for going to the lair are shot down and there's a tiny grimace on his face when I suggest that Donnie can help me study. I don't like that look, it makes me bristle with anger and indignation. I haven't told him about how much closer we've gotten in the last few weeks. It's none of his business and that grimace makes me think he wouldn't be too pleased with the prospect. I try not to take offense. I know he likes the turtles, likes Donnie most of all, but he's desperate to get me out of this city. He thinks I'm going to get hurt and maybe he's right. It doesn't matter. This is my home, this is where I belong. It's an argument that I'm not prepared to have and so I submit and head to the library.

It's quiet and dimly lit and every scratch of Irma's pencil across her notebook paper sets my teeth on edge. I try to focus. I try to buckle down and study. I tap my pen along the edge of my textbook and read the same sentence at least four times. I'm sliding my phone out of my pocket before I even register that my hand moved. There are no new messages and I crinkle my nose and feel my mouth fall into a pout. I'm sure he's busy or maybe hell froze over and he's getting some much needed rest. I shouldn't bother him. I can't help it. I'll never be able to focus on studying while I'm busy worrying.

**Everything all right?**

I send out the quick text and set the phone down beside the textbook, my eyes far more focused on the dark screen than the words in the book. I go back to my pen-tapping. Irma glances at me over the top of her glasses. I don't offer an explanation. I don't have one I can give anyway. I wish I did. I wish I could. There have been times, more often recently, that I want nothing more than to tell her everything. That's what you're supposed to do when you reach these milestones. You have hushed, giggling conversations with your friends about the kissing and touching and your girly, unrealistic expectations of the future. I want to talk about it with her so badly it hurts. My phone buzzes and I snag it off the table with lightening quick reflexes.

**Working through the security system. **

My stomach gives a nervous lurch. I know he can do it. I have nothing but complete faith in his intellect, in his abilities. Cold, calculated dread settles in the pit of my stomach all the same. He's only starting to heal. I'm sure he's been hunched over his computer all day; probably hasn't eaten unless Mikey managed to nag him into submission. I crinkle my nose and shake my head, sliding my thumb down the screen until I find Mikey's name.

**Has he been locked in his lab all day?**

Mikey's response is almost instantaneous.

**Yup. Got that look in his eyes.**

That just won't do. I text back, the screen smudged with the flurry of my thumbs.

**I'm coming over. Try to make him eat something.**

I slide my phone back into my pocket, my mind already flying with possible excuses and lies for my hasty departure. Irma is staring at me with an annoyed, pinched turn of her eyes. She folds her hands atop the table, lifting one to slowly adjust her glasses. I fumble with the corner of my textbook and lower my gaze, unable to meet her suspicious eyes.

"Let me guess," she says slowly. "You have to go."

Guilt mixes with the tremble of worry already wreaking havoc in my stomach and I squirm in my chair. "I…it's an emergency…"

"Whatever April," she interrupts me with a wave of her hand, lowering her eyes back to her notebook. "I'm done. I'm not going to beg you to tell me where you keep running off to. I hope you and your secret boyfriend have a wonderful night."

I stammer and blink and try to fight back the heat rising up from under my collar. "What?" I mumble, trying my best to sound aghast at her accusation.

"Oh, please, April," she says with a dismissive snort. "You've been walking around grinning like an idiot for days," she says, looking up from her notebook. "You're constantly texting someone and you hide the screen when you think someone is going to see it. Yesterday after school you bought takeout for two," she raises her eyebrows and looks infuriatingly smug. "Do I need to go on?"

I swallow and shake my head no, completely unaware that I had been so obvious or in fact that Irma was so observant. She continues to smirk and leans forward.

"So why are you keeping him secret?" she asks, lowering her voice. "Oh, my God. Is he married?"

"What? No, of course not," I say, not having to fake sounding aghast this time. "No, he's…he's not married, he's just…"

"Older?" she offers.

I blush and fiddle with the edge of my textbook. "Yeah," I say, hoping some vague, not-quite lies will sate her curiosity and my own dying need to gossip and brag. "He's in college," I add quickly. "My Dad will flip if he finds out."

Irma looks positively elated to have cracked through my veil of secrets. She pushes away from the table and slides into the chair beside mine.

"Tell me everything," she demands. "What's his name? Where did you guys meet? What's he like? Do you have a picture?"

I regret this decision. I'll have to stick as close to the truth as lies will allow. Leo's harsh warnings about keeping secrets ring in my ears and I have to push them aside. I squiggle again in my chair.

"His name is Donnie," I murmur. "We met at Murakami's."

Saying his name out loud to someone new is strange and sets my worry wriggling again. My life is split into two very separate worlds and dragging one into the other makes me feel like I'm tearing apart inside. I need to get away. I try to play to her curiosity. I need to make her think she's in on some grand secret so she won't keep me from leaving. It's sneaky and underhanded and I feel slimy for doing it. I'm a horrible friend.

"I…I need your help, Irma," I say quickly before she can ask any more questions. "I'm supposed to meet him tonight, but my Dad is really on my case about finals. Can I tell him I'm spending the night at your house?"

Irma purses her lips for a few seconds. "Fine, but on one condition," she says, always a fan of calling in favors.

"All right, name it," I reply with more than a little trepidation.

"Promise to be careful," she says and my guilt curls into a painful ball. "Text me when you get there and later to let me know you're all right."

"He wouldn't…"

"I'm sure he's the perfect gentleman," she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Just humor me, all right?"

I nod. "Thank you, Irma," I say with a smile before sliding into my coat.

"Yeah, yeah, go on," she says with a roll of her eyes that ends in a smirk. "And don't think you're off the hook. You still owe me details. I want to hear everything."

"You got it," I reply, unable to keep a small blush from warming my skin.

I hurriedly pack away my books and papers, offering another promise of future secret telling before heading to the lobby. Once outside and beyond the watchful eye of the librarian behind the front desk I call my Dad. I'm not entirely sure he'll buy the lie. I feel horrible for having to tell it and I'm sure he'll see right through me. To my surprise he doesn't question a word of it. He insists that I call when I reach Irma's and before I head home in the morning. I promise and say my goodnights, feeling sick with guilt. I hate having to lie. I shouldn't have to lie. When this is all over I'll come clean. I'll tell him everything, well, maybe not everything, but the things he needs to know.

The snow has finally let up, but the cold is stubborn and persistent. I wrap my scarf around my face and shuffle through the snow and slush towards the deli a few blocks down. I order sandwiches and enough cookies for everyone. Donnie will be more likely to accept food if some of it is sweets. I duck back out into the cold and walk on anxious feet towards the closest sewer entrance. It takes me the better part of a half an hour to reach the lair and the warm, dry main living space is a welcomed sight.

"Hey, Mikey," I call out, catching sight of the top of his head over the back of the couch.

"April," he greets me with a grin, rolling off the couch and onto his feet. "I tried to get him to eat something, but he only took coffee," he says with a sigh. "And Raph is in there like a guard dog, bites my head off when I try."

"Let me deal with Raphael," I mutter, slipping out of my coat before putting on my game face and walking up the stairs to the lab.

I heave the door open with a squeal. Donnie doesn't look up from his computer. He doesn't even blink. He's leaning ridiculously close to the screen with hunched shoulders and his tongue sticking out at the corner of his mouth. Raphael however is instantly on his feet. I'm not who he expected to see and the instant anger on his face falters into something else…something I can't quite place. The awkward shift of his feet and darting movement of his eyes makes my suspicion flare. He's up to something.

"Hey guys," I say, crossing the room to stand beside Donnie's chair. "I brought dinner."

He doesn't look away from the screen and I'm not convinced he heard a word of what I just said. I rest my hand on his shoulder and he jumps in surprise, proving my theory correct. He swivels his neck to look up at me, wincing at the movement.

"April," he says, obviously torn between a proper greeting and continuing his work.

"It's time for a break," I say gently. "Can you save your work? I brought dinner."

He winces and looks back at the screen. "I…I don't know. I think I've almost got through another layer, I just…"

"That's going to take hours, right?" I ask quietly. "You don't have to do this all at once. It will keep. Come have dinner. I bought cookies."

"Did you say cookies?" Mikey asks.

He slides into the lab when he's convinced Raph won't instantly chase him out.

"Come on, D. Let's go eat. I'll let you pick what we watch on TV," he says, taking the box of cookies from my hands before I even pull them out of my bag.

Donnie looks like he might argue. His hands still hover over the keyboard and his eyes move back to the screen. I reach forward and take hold of his left hand, finding the way our fingers line up just right. His fingers curl in around mine and he sighs.

"I guess I could take a small break," he says, even though he sounds pained to admit it. "Let me just…I have to finish this bit up first."

I take the opportunity to text Irma and my Dad like I promised. I've done enough lying tonight to back out on my word as well. A few minutes later and with a little help from Michelangelo we're sitting on the couch with sandwiches and cookies and the television humming in the background. Away from his computer and his work Donnie looks undeniably tired. By the slow way he moves and how he guards his right hand I know he's in pain. I'm happy at least that he's eating. Getting him to sleep will be my next project.

"Where are Master Splinter and Leo?" I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich.

"Dojo," Raph grumbles in reply, shoving a cookie in his mouth with one bite.

He's keeping his distance, lingering at the edge of the couch. His jerky, awkward movements are making me nervous. Angry, irrational Raphael I can handle. Anxiety doesn't suit him and it is unsettling.

"Working on a plan," Donnie adds, the words cut off by a yawn. "We need to…check out the new warehouse," he mumbles, setting down his half-eaten sandwich to rub his eyes.

"I'm sure they'll figure something out," I reply with a smile I hope is encouraging.

He nods and his head lulls slightly against his chest before he shakes it like he's clearing water from his ears.

"All right, time for bed," I say, setting his food aside. "You need to sleep."

"M'fine," he grumbles, of course not willing to make this easy.

"I'm sure you are. You're also struggling to stay awake, so it's time for bed," I say as though I'm talking to a rather petulant toddler. "Mikey?"

He nods and shoves another cookie in his mouth before sliding under his brother's arm. "All right, D. On your feet," he says, the words garbled by the food in his mouth.

Mikey helps him up the stairs and into the bathroom so he can get ready for bed. I linger in the hallway, rolling my eyes at the muffled bickering I hear inside. The creeping, sharp sense that I'm not alone pricks at the base of my skull and I resist the urge to reach for my weapon. Raphael slinks out of the shadow and I let out a tiny sigh.

"What?" I ask, shifting under the weight of his gaze.

He shakes his head as though he just realized he was staring. "Nothing," he says, looking down at his feet. "Uh, thanks for the food."

"You're welcome," I reply cautiously, not entirely convinced this isn't a trick of some sort.

"I can walk on my own, Mikey," Donnie says, pushing open the bathroom door while swatting away his brother's fretting hands.

Raphael is already gone, halfway down the steps towards the television.

"All right, but if you fall that's on you, man," Mikey says, holding his hands up in defeat. "I'll put the rest of your sandwich in the fridge, all right?"

"Yeah…thanks," Donnie replies, failing to hold back a yawn.

Mikey flashes me a grin before leaping down the steps with one giant hop. I take hold of Donnie's hand and our fingers interlock. I can't help but think what those fingers were doing only a few days ago and the memory starts a warmth in my belly that instantly travels elsewhere. His room is neat and orderly, with a bookshelf full to overflowing and a few stray bits of tech scattered about the floor. This isn't his true space. It's only where he sleeps. The lab is his. The lab is Donnie.

"Do you want something for the pain?" I ask, helping him to sit on the bed.

He shakes his head no. "S'just sore," he mumbles.

I reach up to untie his mask, glad that he doesn't stop me. I place a gentle kiss on his temple before removing his elbow pads. He's not wearing his belt and after his knee pads are gone there's nothing left to remove. My hand lingers near his shoulder, the muscle a tight knot beneath my fingers. I press and knead until he leans back into my touch and a tiny sigh escapes his lips.

"You're one big knot," I say, scooting over on the mattress to sit behind him to get more leverage. "How long were you at your computer?"

"Few hours," he mumbles, which I'm sure is a vast understatement.

I press down on the tense spot between his shoulder blades. He grimaces for a moment until the knot starts to release under my fingers and a small moan peppers the air.

"You need to take breaks," I chastise, moving my hands down to his bicep.

"I know," he says. The words hold the sharp, annoyed tone of someone sick of hearing the same thing over and over again.

"Don't get mad at me," I say, putting a hand on my hip. "If you know then why did you work all day without stopping?"

He tenses and lowers his chin to his chest. "I'm sorry," he says, instantly contrite. "I just…I lose track of time. I was making real progress and it…it has been so long since I've been able to work and…and she's planning something, April; something awful. We have to stop her…"

"And we will," I say, moving forward to sit across his lap. "That's what you do, right? You and your brothers. You stop the bad guys," I lean my head forward to rest against his with a tiny smile. "We'll stop her together," I say, tilting his chin up so I can kiss him properly. "But that won't happen in a day."

He nods and his hands move to wrap around my waist, even exhausted his grip strong enough to hold me still. "I didn't expect you here tonight," he says quietly. "I thought you had to study."

The guilt is back and I try to clear my throat around it. "Well, I did…I mean, I do, but…"

He leans back and his eyes are full of concern. "April?"

"My Dad thinks I'm spending the night at Irma's," I say, rushing on when his face falls into a wavy grimace. "It's all right. Irma will cover for me…"

"You, you told her about us?" he asks his voice a disbelieving whisper.

"What? No, not really. I kinda," I bite my lip and look down at my hands. "I kinda told her you were a college student I met," I offer a sheepish smile when his face refuses to give any hint at what he's thinking. "She knew, I mean, she didn't know, but she knew I was…with someone. She cornered me about my 'secret boyfriend,' and I had to tell her something because she never would have let it rest, and…and, stop looking at me that way," I stammer and pout and cross my arms over my chest.

His mouth gives a tiny pull at the corner and his eyes round out into perfect circles. "Boyfriend?" he mumbles and my heart squeezes in my chest at the hopefulness clinging to that one, quiet word.

The warm flush returns to my body and I lean forward into a kiss. It's long and languid and leaves us both struggling to draw breath when it's done. I curl my fingers gently over the top of plastron and lean in against him.

"Yeah," I say with a smile. "Is that all right?"

His eyes close and his hands move up to rest on my hips. "I was…I worried," he murmurs, pinching his eyes shut tighter. "After, after that night," he swallows and I watch his Adam's apple move beneath the skin of his throat. "I thought maybe you wouldn't…that after you saw, saw how different I am you wouldn't want…to be with me like that."

"I do," I say and I look away embarrassed when he stares at me with an expression of utter wonderment. It's too much to live up to and I don't want to disappoint him.

He kisses me and I forget my embarrassment. I forget the lingering pang of guilt clinging to my thoughts. There's only him and there's only us. His mouth finds its way to my throat and I shudder and moan when his tongue passes over my skin. He's bold and steady and his hands press and knead along my ribs before settling on my breasts. The touch makes me whimper in the best possible way and I want to return the favor. I snake a hand down his carapace, dragging my nails as I go. I search out his tail with nimble fingers and delight in the groan it pulls from deep in his chest.

There's a sharp knock at the door and the sound is like a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. I'm about to tell whoever it is to go away when Master Splinter's voice pierces the air.

"Donatello?"

His eyes are huge and he doesn't move an inch, maybe thinking his father will go away if he doesn't reply. No such luck.

"Donatello," he says again without question this time.

"Yes?" he calls back, the word catching and cracking on the tail end of it.

"You will keep your door open when you have…company," he insists.

Donnie swallows and looks positively mortified. "Hai, Sensei," he croaks.

There's a throaty noise of agreement from the other side of the door, before Master Splinter adds with the tiniest hint of amusement. "Good evening, April."

"Good evening, Master Splinter," I reply.

I lean my forehead against Donnie's and giggle at his painful look of embarrassment. "To be continued," I whisper, sliding off his lap with more than a little regret for having to do so. I lean over and kiss the top of his head. "Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

He reaches out a hand, catching my wrist before I reach the door. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. I understand and it isn't necessary. He has nothing to thank me for. This goes both ways. I need him too. I'm just as thankful for having him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Notes: If it gets a bit loopy in parts I apologize. I am on a lot of cold medicine :0)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 8<p>

I wish sleep was the magical cure-all my family seems to think it is. I slept, I ate, I rested, just like they insisted and I hardly feel better for it. I peek out at the darkened bedroom, the ache in my body registering before any other sense wakes up. The blankets are tangled around my legs and I'm sure I tossed and turned the entire night. I roll over and glance at the clock with a groan. It's nearly six. I'm sure Master Splinter is awake for his morning meditation. I groan and curl into a ball as the memory of my father interrupting April and I comes flooding back with excruciatingly embarrassing detail. I'm not ready to face him. I'm sure I'm in for a lecture; a horrible, humiliating lecture. Maybe if I get up now I can sneak out before he ventures from the dojo.

I fumble with clumsy and painful hands to put on my knee and elbow pads, giving up on my mask when it slides from my fingers for the third time. Yesterday's work took its toll, no matter how much I want to believe it didn't. The ache in my thumb is constant and sharp, reaching to the tips of my fingers and up towards my elbow. It is going to be a long day.

The lair is dark and quiet outside my bedroom door. My brothers haven't ventured out yet, or if they have they are nowhere to be seen. I pad down the hallway and stop dead in my tracks when I spot April on the couch. She's curled on her side with her hair sticking up in more directions than I thought existed. Her stocking feet poke out from the edge of the blankets and I instinctively move to cover her. She murmurs and scrunches her nose, burying her face in the pillow beneath her head before turning sleepy eyes in my direction.

"Time is it?" she mumbles around a yawn.

"Quarter to six," I reply quietly, feeling bad for having woke her. "Go back to sleep. I'll make you breakfast."

Her eyes close and a tiny smile settles on her mouth. "You can cook?" she asks and she's searching out my hand before I can back away.

"Sure, it's like chemistry, right? Just follow the directions," I say.

She only smiles in reply, pulling my hand closer to kiss lightly across my knuckles.

_You love her._

My chest tightens and I have to stop from pulling away at the sudden pain of that frightful realization. It isn't anything new. It's been there all along. I've always been aware of it, always rounded back to it when she showed me even the slightest bit of affection. I've felt it so strongly it hurt. I tried to turn from it. I tried to force it into something else, into the love one feels for a close friend; certain that is all we might ever be.

Now it's different. Now it's bright and obvious and yelling at me from every corner of my mind. I love her and she might just feel the same. There's a fragile hope to the thought and it terrifies me. For so long I had myself convinced it would never be. I'm not supposed to have that kind of happiness, none of us are, but here she is. Reaching for me in her sleep and last night telling me she wants me in the way a woman wants a man. It's wonderful and frightening all at once and for that brief, warm moment when her lips graze over my hand I'm happier than I've ever been.

I don't want to ruin it so I stay silent and smooth the blanket over her shoulders. She sighs and nuzzles, drifting back to sleep. I want to remember her like this, content and safe without the troubles of the world taking away her smile. I grip the arm of the couch and stretch to my full height, my sore muscles and joints groaning in protest. The walk to the kitchen is a slow one, but by the time I'm there I'm already feeling more confident in my movements. I pause at the threshold to the kitchen, surprised to find Raph sitting at the table eating cereal with unnecessary zeal. He pauses mid-spoonful and eyes me with open suspicion.

"How long have you been up?" he asks with the obvious accusation lingering behind the question.

"Oh, I never went to sleep. I've been up all night," I reply with false cheerfulness and a grating smile. He narrows his eyes and I roll mine. "I just woke up, calm down," I grumble, making a bee-line for the coffee maker.

"Uh huh," he grumbles, driving the spoon back into the bowl. "I'm calm, you're the one who isn't calm," he mutters and scowls. He's unsurprisingly not a morning person. "You gonna finish breaking through their security system today?" he asks around a mouthful of cereal.

_Fix it, Donnie. What's taking you so long?_

My hand gives a painful twitch at the thought of another full day of typing. I want nothing more than to sit at my computer and pull apart that system piece by piece. I wanted to keep doing that last night. I dreamed about it when I was coerced into sleep. It's itching and clawing at the back of my thoughts, running possible programs through my head. I want to, but the pain in my hand is unavoidable and it's taking more effort than it should just to keep my fingers and wrist from curling into an even more painful claw.

_You're being selfish. Get to work, everyone has problems. So what if your hand hurts. You can type one handed. So what if you told April you'd make her breakfast. She'll understand. You have work to do._

"In a bit," I say, turning on the coffee maker while avoiding his narrowing gaze.

He's on his feet with a loud scrape of the chair and I don't have time to move before he grabs hold of my arm by the elbow. He lifts up my arm and tries to grab my hand, but I push him away with a hiss between my teeth. He scowls and lunges at me again. I don't have time to get away, but I turn and try to push him away with my shell.

"What is wrong with you?" I demand, ducking and throwing an elbow that he easily avoids. "Get away!"

"Let me see your hand," he growls, grabbing my elbow when I try to hit him again. "Stop, let me see, dammit!"

He pushes and flails, overpowering me. I hiss through my teeth when his hand closes around my wrist.

"Am I interrupting something?" April asks with a sleepy laugh from the doorway.

I use the distraction to pull free and shove Raph off of where he is leaning over my shell. "Just Raph being insane," I say, scooting down the length of the counter and out of his reach.

"I'm not…that isn't…you're the one who's insane," Raph stammers, rolling his shoulders and shifting on his feet like he's preparing for a boxing match; a very awkward boxing match.

_What is his problem?_

"Uh huh," April says, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "You sure about that?" she asks with a laugh.

"Whatever," Raph mutters, shuffling around April towards the door. "Training," he adds as an explanation before practically darting from the room.

"Is he on drugs?" April asks with another laugh and I think she's only half joking.

"I don't…think so," I reply with a shrug.

I reach up to take two mugs down from the cupboard, tensing when she wraps her arms around my middle and leans her head between my shoulders. "He was acting weird all day yesterday too," she murmurs, her breath warm against my skin. "I think he's up to something. He won't look me in the eye, he said thank you…it's all very suspicious."

"I'm sure it's nothing," I say. "We're all a little bit on edge lately."

I pour her a cup of coffee with cream and sugar and she says a quiet thank you before closing her eyes and breathing in the scent. I smile. I can't not. She's perfect and she's here, with me and I wonder what it would be like if she was always here; if her sleepy eyes and messy hair greeted me every morning. It's silly. The lair is where my brothers live. Even the lab isn't always entirely mine. I wouldn't want her to have to stay down here. She should be above ground, in the sun. We couldn't have anything of our own down here.

"What do you feel like eating?" I ask quietly, trying to push the melancholy thoughts from my mind.

"You're not going to let him cook, are you, April?" Mikey asks from the doorway, far too loud and too excited for this hour of the day.

"I can cook," I say, instantly feeling cold when April lets go of my waist.

Mikey shakes his head with a smug, superior smirk on his face. "And it's cute that you think that," he replies, making a grand show of opening the fridge. "But let a true Master handle this sort of thing."

I roll my eyes and pour myself a cup of coffee. "Fine, have at it, Master," I say, unable to keep a smile from crossing my face when he grins and bows.

Breakfast is a loud, boisterous affair, the noise catching the attention of my other brothers. Soon we're all gathered around the table, eating and laughing. It's almost as if everything is back to normal and it's over much too quickly. April is standing at the sink, helping Leo clean up and lamenting over having to leave so soon. I try not to stare at the dip of her waist or the curve of her backside as she leans over the counter. My eyes don't seem to want to obey the polite insistence of my mind so I tilt my head down to avoid the temptation.

"I can walk you home," I say, squaring my shoulders for the inevitable backlash from my brothers.

Mikey doesn't say a word, instead looking towards Leo to gauge his response. Raph simply leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. Leo is slowly drying off a plate with an overly thoughtful expression on his face. I can't decide which response annoys me the most, but all three combined make me bristle. April smiles and leans over my shoulder to lightly kiss my cheek.

"Thanks," she says, turning back to the sink while quietly humming.

_You love her a whole lot._

Raph has lost some of his bravado and the tense hold of his arms loosens somewhat. "It ain't safe," he grumbles.

"It's only a little ways," I say with a shrug. "Most of it we can stay underground."

"Master Splinter doesn't want us going anywhere alone," Leo replies, snagging another plate. "Raph is right, it isn't safe."

I try not to pout, but I can feel my bottom lip sticking out. I press down on it and poke absently at the tabletop. "We won't be alone."

"You will be after you drop her off, Genius," Raph says.

"Raphael will go with you," Leo says, carefully stacking the plates.

I bite back another pout. I suppose I should be grateful that I at least get to leave the lair. My plans however, for walking April home did not include my brother glowering in the background. Raph doesn't look excited about the prospect either, sighing and pouting as he kicks his toe against the leg of the table. I'm sure he wants to get to work instead or more accurately he wants me to get to work. A twinge of guilt pinches in my chest and I turn my attention to my injured hand, prying open my fingers and massaging away the worst of the ache. I'll be ready to work when I get home or more ready anyway.

"Let me get my things together and then we can go," April says, choosing to ignore Raph's grumpy scowl.

I smile and wait until she's left the room before turning to my brother. "I'll get to work as soon as we get back. I promise," I say quietly. "I just need to know she's home safe first."

He looks a bit startled and his expression falls into frown. "I know," he says, shifting in his chair. He pushes away from the table and actively avoids eye contact. "Wear a hat, it's freezing out."

He isn't wrong. The tunnels are nearly free of snow, but the cold permeates from every side. I flip the hood of my coat over my head and feel the next shiver down to my bones. April is walking beside me, her hand held in mine. I can only feel a slight pressure through the combined distance our gloves make. It's enough. We talk about school and her plans for the holiday. It's quiet and normal and avoids all of the topics I would rather not visit at the moment. Raphael keeps his distance, never out of sight, but far enough removed that he can't overhear our conversation. I appreciate the effort to give us some alone time and I'll thank him for it later.

It's midday when we reach the surface. The sky is gunmetal gray with a thick layer of clouds blocking the sun. A few stray snowflakes flit around on the air, one catching in a strand of April's hair that has come loose from her hat. I brush it aside and let my hand linger alongside her face. She smiles and stands up on her tiptoes to give me a quick kiss. Raph's shoulder slams into mine and I narrowly avoid head-butting April.

_Maybe you won't thank him after all._

"Come on, let's hurry," he says, already climbing up onto the fire escape. "We're too exposed out here."

We move slowly across the rooftops. It's fine. I'm in no rush to reach her apartment and say goodbye. She stops us a couple blocks away, leaning on the edge of the building to stare down at the street below. Raph paces and cracks his neck, all coiled muscles and flared nostrils. I use the pause as an opportunity to stretch out my sore legs. I won't admit it out loud, but even the slow pace took its toll.

"I'm going to walk from here," April says, adjusting her hat and holding up her hands when Raph and I both start to argue. "My Dad thinks I spent the night at Irma's. If I slip in through the window he'll know I didn't," she takes hold of my hand. "It's only a couple blocks."

I sigh and nod. "All right…but be careful."

She pulls me down into a kiss and we only break apart at the guttural sound of Raph clearing his throat. "I always am," she says.

We watch her climb down the fire escape and drop into the alleyway below. We keep to the shadows and dart across the rooftop, following her progress on the sidewalk. I don't let Raph pull me away until I see her slip inside the safety of her apartment building. We move without talking, both eager to escape the wind and snow. Raph is ahead of me. It's not something I'm used to. Usually he's the one who struggles to keep up with me. He slides to a halt and I slam into him with a clumsy tuck and roll. He pushes me off his shell and points angrily to the street below.

"Purple Dragons," he hisses, cracking his knuckles with a grin.

There are at least a dozen of them. Some load boxes onto a truck while others linger at the mouth of the alley on look out. Raph rolls his shoulders and shrugs out of his coat with a twirl of his sai and a noticeable shiver. He's eager for a fight. I am less so. It is cold and every part of me that doesn't hurt at least aches. I take my bo from its holster all the same and settle him with a glum look.

"Aw, come on," he whispers with a grin. "This'll be great practice. It's only the Purple Dragons. The perfect fight to get you back in the game," he says, leaning over the edge of the building. "Look, they're cleaning the store out. Are we going to sit up here and let them?"

I grumble and pout, muttering something about insurance, eventually wilting under his incredulous stare. "Fine, but if I say retreat, we retreat," I sigh, instantly regretting my decision when I struggle to unzip my coat.

Raph catches sight of my fumbling and his hands lower, the tips of his sai scrapping the ground. "Never mind, man," he says, leaning over to pick up his coat. "Bad idea, forget it."

I should be relieved. I have no business getting into a fight. Besides, I have more important work to do. Raph's return to his senses annoys me regardless of the clear logic of the situation. I don't like being reminded of my obvious short comings. Any tantrum or passive aggressive snark leaves my mind in an instant when I hear the cold, soft click of a gun readying to fire.

"Get down!" I cry, barreling into Raph and knocking him on the ground.

_They've spotted you! Great ninja work, pathetic._

I push aside the dark thoughts. There isn't time for that now. We have to get away. Raph growls and pushes me off of him once I'm convinced he wasn't shot. We duck behind the ledge and wait for that brief pause that means they're reloading. It's there and we're off, barely reaching the other side of the roof before another round of gunfire erupts.

_They're on the fire escape! Run, get out of here!_

Raph is ahead of me. It's only by a few feet, but that makes all the difference in the world. He's at the ledge, lifting his foot to hoist himself over while making sure that I'm still following him. I am. It doesn't matter. The bullet hits him in the thigh with a dull thud and a spray of blood across the snow-covered ground. His eyes widen in shock and I don't think he has time to register the inevitable pain before another strikes him in the shoulder. I yell and run towards him as he stumbles dangerously on the precipice.

There are hands on me; strong and deliberate and intent on doing harm. I kick and punch and try to crawl my way to my brother. It's too late. I'm too late. I can't break free. I'm not strong enough. I'm never strong enough. He's falling and no one is going to catch him. There's one last flash of shock across his green eyes before he goes over the ledge and the sight of it renews my struggle with the strength of desperation.

There's a sharp, pinprick in the side of my neck and the all too familiar pull of a sedative entering my bloodstream. I try to fight it. I have to help Raph. I have to get away. The hands let go and I attempt to crawl, only to slip and fall. The crunch of boots on stone fills my ears and even with the heavy weight of the drugs now coursing through my veins I round back to panic. My head is pulled up and I can't focus, I can't see. It's too bright and too dark all at once.

"Well, it must be our lucky day, boys," a voice drawls. "I know someone who will pay a pretty penny for you, Freak."

There's laughter and the cold slap of the ground meeting my face. The sharp, metallic taste of blood fills my mouth before the world slips into darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Things aren't looking so good for Donnie...**

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><p>Chapter 9<p>

**Bang! Bang! Bang!**

I feel the noise before I hear it, low and tremoring I feel it in my teeth. I groan and pinch my eyes shut, trying to wish away the offending sound by sheer force of will. A few muffled seconds of quiet follow. It is long enough for me to wonder if I imaged the sound. I'm not that lucky.

**Bang! Bang!**

"Daddy, make it move. All it does is sleep."

**BANG!**

_That's not…no. That can't be. Humans. Get up, hide! Don't let them see you!_

I'm on the rooftop, aren't I? That's where I…did I fall asleep? No, I didn't. That's not right either. I must have, because my eyes are closed and everything is fuzzy.

**Bang!**

I pry open one eye, glaring, white light forcing me to shut it almost immediately. There's a high-pitched squeal and I can't decide if that's better or worse than the concussive thud. Both sounds make me wince in pain. I try again. The clearer my thoughts become the brighter my anxiety burns. A ninja is a master of his body and his surroundings. I have to open my eyes. I can't linger here in the dark. It isn't safe. I need to open my eyes.

_No._

I'm not alone. I am the furthest from alone I think I've ever been. There are dozens of eyes staring back at me, with plenty more turning my way as I move. I've been seen by this many humans before, but those were Foot ninjas; the enemy. Under their gaze I was free to defend myself. This is different. These are just people. Men, women and children, families. They're milling around with food and drink, having a nice, little get-together. It's a party, with the huge tank at the center of it.

**BANG!**

"Daddy, look! It's awake!" the little girl shrieks, pounding her fist on the glass once more.

_No, no, no. This isn't happening. Run! Run, you idiot! Get out of there!_

I push back and try to stand, but my feet won't obey and a metal collar pinches and pulls against my throat. I stumble and roll, digging my heels into the ground for leverage. A chain runs from the collar into the ground and no amount of pulling will wrench it free. My chest tightens until any remaining breath is squeezed from my lungs. My vision narrows to a pinpoint and my blood rushes in my ears. I scramble and scuttle and pull frantically on the chain that tethers me in place.

_You have to hide! You can't let them see you. You know what Sensei says!_

I crawl as far as the chain will allow, crouching in the corner of the tank. I pull my knees up to my chest and lower my chin so my shell faces outward. There's only panic and the struggle to draw breath. I can feel them watching me, staring. Their voices are muffled, but I can hear laughter and gasps as they point and stare; gawking at the freak. My whole body trembles and I close my eyes until it hurts.

_This isn't happening. It's a dream. It has to be. You're going to wake up at home and everything will be all right._

**BANG!**

I flinch and curl tighter into myself. I can't breathe and every inch of my skin feels warm and somehow cold at the same time. Logically, chemically I know what is happening, but I am powerless to stop it. I tremble and press against the cool glass of the tank until the burning pain in my lungs can't be ignored and I manage to pull in a rush of air into my mouth. My head spins and I try to focus on the cool press of the glass, the haggard sound of my breathing, the frantic beating of my heart. I need to focus on anything besides the feeling of all those eyes watching my every move.

_Get a hold of yourself! Panicking isn't going to do any good. Would Leo or Raph cower like some pathetic loser? What would Sensei say if he could see you? Pathetic, weak. _

"Get away from the wall."

The voice is stern and close and I chastise myself for not realizing that someone is in the tank with me. Two someones if I am being accurate. They're big, intimidating men made all the more so by the weapons held in their hands. The sight of them pulls me back from the edge and the next breath I take still shakes but it reaches my lungs and lessens the ache in my chest. I don't move, if anything I press further into the corner. One of the men sighs and nudges me with the toe of his boot.

"Come on, out of the corner. These people want to see you," he demands, his next kick more than a nudge.

I wince and roll my shoulders forward in stubborn defiance. He squats down beside me and the acrid stench of stale cigarettes clings to his clothing and breath. I stare straight forward. I won't make this easy. I will fight. If it was any of my brothers they would fight. They wouldn't bow to this rent a cop with delusions of grandeur. He's just a bully. I am not afraid of bullies. I am not afraid.

"Do you understand me, Freak?" he asks, drawing out every word with loud, clipped sounds and taunting laughter.

I should ignore him. I shouldn't let his condescending tone bother me. I don't and it does. It crawls under my skin and chases away the cold panic with a burning rage. I am not an animal. I am not stupid and he does not get to talk to me like that. I lift my head and turn a slow, even glare in his direction. Part of me feels a small sense of accomplishment at the look of shock on his face when I lurch forward and head-butt him.

_You're going to regret that, idiot._

I hear the crack of his nose and the pained howl that follows. There isn't time for a proper reaction. There's a strong pull of the chain and the collar bites and tightens around my throat. I try to fight it, but I'm off balance and I'm yanked backwards onto my shell. There are gasps from those gathered around the tank. I don't have time to worry about that. Breathing is of the utmost importance. I claw at the collar until there is the tiniest amount of give and I manage to take in a breath. I roll onto my side and brace myself for the inevitable retaliation from my stupidity.

"Ugh, d-damn freak broke my nose!" the guard wails.

"Serves you right for getting in his face," the other man mutters.

The soft click of his gun follows the words and I tense in anticipation.

"On your knees," he orders.

_If you're going to die do it with honor. Show no fear._

My movements are slow and deliberate, my head still spinning from the lack of oxygen. I kneel, lowering my head to stare at the ground.

"Good," he says quietly. "Now, if you try something like that again I will shoot you. Do as you're told and we won't have any trouble. Got it?"

_Shoot…Raphael. They shot Raph._

I turn my head towards the man with the gun, panic building again in my chest. "Please," I say and the word is harsh and desperate and I don't care. "I need…I have to get out of here, please."

He lowers the gun slightly and I see something falter behind his stern gaze.

"Please," I say again between sharp intakes of air. "The other turtle, is he…where is he?"

His eyebrows knit in confusion and my heart sinks. "What other turtle?" he says with a shake of his head.

_He's dead. They shot him and he's dead and now you're stuck here in this cage and they're going to kill you too while people have wine and cheese and watch from the other side of the glass._

I feel bile start to rise in my throat and I lurch forward instinctively. He can't be dead. He can't be. He got away, that's all. They only shot him in the leg, right? Isn't that what happened? It was just in the leg…and the shoulder. They shot him twice. It's Raph, two bullets can't stop Raphael. He'll pull them out himself and then go two more rounds. He's fine. He got away. He made it home. He's fine and they're all going to rescue me. He can't be dead.

"Stay put," the guard says, but his words are muffled and I make no indication that I heard them.

I don't move. I kneel, leaning forward on my left hand for support. I don't know how long I stay like that. There's movement and noise on the other side of the glass as the part wears on. I ignore it. I push it from my mind. I'm back in the dojo with Master Splinter, being punished for sneaking off to April's. I focus on the growing ache in my knees and hips. The pain is a point in time I can cling to. I can ignore everything else if I let the pain take over. It's sharp and familiar and almost strong enough to make me forget.

The room eventually empties and the lights go out. I lift my head, my stiff neck twinging in protest. I sit back on my heels and take in my surroundings properly for the first time. The cage takes up the entire length of one side of the room. The floor is concrete, except for a small, round circle of water in one corner the size of a kiddie pool. A warm, pleasant light shines down beside it and I can feel the warmth of it even in the shadows. I stretch out my legs and wince. I'm not entirely alone, even in the empty room. Several red, blinking lights signal where camera lenses monitor my every move.

There has to be a way out. Every problem has a solution. I just have to find it. I can fix this. My knees tremble when I try to stand, threatening to give out. I don't let them. I don't have time for it. The chain around my neck doesn't reach far enough to let me properly inspect the walls. There has to be a way in and out. I had to get put in here somehow and the guards are no longer there. It's along the left hand side. There's a slight crease along the glass, it's a door and it is opening. I lean back into a defensive stance, but my knees wobble and I waver where I stand. The guard lingers inside the doorway, holding a metal tray in his hands.

"Food," he says, lifting it slightly with a coinciding bob of his head.

I close my hands into fists and remain silent. He sighs and shifts the tray into one hand while pulling out his sidearm with the other.

"Sit," he says, waving the barrel towards the ground. "It's not a trick. Sit down and you can have this. You gotta be hungry by now."

I sit, pulling my knees up to my chest and never taking my eyes off the door. The guard lowers the tray to the ground and slides it towards me. There's a bottle of water and a pile of leafy greens I'm sure is meant as an insult to my turtle heritage. I don't move towards it. I barely acknowledge that I see it.

"All right then. Starve if you want," he mutters, turning to leave.

I watch him go. I watch how the door opens, where the latches are, the possible weak spots. I need to get out of here and that door is my chance. There's a hiss and pop when it closes, the seal air tight. A locking mechanism slides into place with the dull thud of metal falling on metal. There is no doorknob on this side, only a softly glowing touchpad where the guard placed his ID badge to gain entrance. I need to get one of those badges. I need to get out of here. I won't let her win. I turn my head towards the closest camera with a glare. I know she's watching.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Raphael POV for this chapter. It's a bit shorter than most, but I was trying to get across his fear and desperation without being too redundant. **

**As always I love reading everyone's comments. You guys are awesome. Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 10<p>

Raphael

I'm falling. Somehow that's more frightening than the sharp realization that I've been shot. The force of it makes my feet slip and the back of my legs catch the low ledge of the building. I can see Donnie, his eyes wide and panicked as they drop down onto him. They have him and I can't stop it. All I can do is meet his gaze one last time before I fall. I try to grab hold of something, anything, but there isn't time and the fall is too short. I hit the ground and the air leaves my lungs. Darkness presses down on my vision and the pain is no longer holding back any punches.

I have to get up. They have my brother. I can hurt later. I try to push off the ground, biting back a yell when my arm and leg both twist and burn in pain. There's blood in the snow, a lot of it; my blood. It's warm and sticky and coats my fingers when I try to stop the flow of it from one of the bullet wounds. I reach up and tear off my mask, tying it tight around my leg. Pain explodes and starbursts flash in my vision. I don't have time for this. They have Donnie. I can't let them get away. I can't let them hurt him. Not again.

"Hey! The other one ain't dead!"

The shout is followed by more gunfire and I roll beneath the fire escape to avoid it. I press against the wall, using the support to help me to my feet. The gunfire has stopped, but I can hear the clang of hurried feet on the fire escape above. I have to move. The first step is the worst and for one horrible moment I think I can't take another. I have to. I have to keep going. The alley opens onto a small side street and I duck into the first alcove I can find, clinging to shadows.

They run past me and I let out the breath I'm holding in a rush. I need to double back. I need to get Donnie. My body has other plans. My muscles cramp and burn as if they're tearing apart. I'm falling again, landing in a heap on the snow-covered paving stones. I fumble for my T-phone, my bloody hands making it a struggle. The bright screen only makes my blurred vision worse and I jab my thumb blindly across it, hoping for at least some luck. There's a soft ring and my head falls back against the ground, clutching the phone to my chest.

"This better be good, man. It is before eleven on a Sunday. You know I need my beauty rest," Casey's voice blares to life and I cover the speaker.

"C-Casey," I whisper and I don't recognize the pitiful, pained voice as my own.

"Raph? Raph, what is it? Are you all right? Where are you?"

He's still talking. I can hear the buzz of the words, but I can't make out what he's saying. It's too cold and I think the sun has gone down. I'll never find my brother if it's this dark out. I have to get up. They're going to hurt him. She's going to hurt him. I should have killed her when I had the chance…

* * *

><p>"Hold him down!"<p>

"I'm trying, Leo! He's just…ow! Come, on, Raph. Ya need to calm down. It's almost over, just calm down!"

I can't calm down. There is no such thing as calm in my world. There's pain and then more pain and the cold, pinch of dread in my stomach. The room is spinning and I can't find my voice. It's hidden beneath the screams and growls that seem to work past my lips without my say so. It's the red place, but it's blue too. That cold and hallow helplessness that suffocates the anger and squeezes my heart in a vice. They're holding me down. They're hurting me. I have to get up. I have to go after the Purple Dragons. They took my brother. She took him.

"Easy, come on, man. It's Mikey. You're safe. It's all right."

It's not all right, it's the furthest from all right that anything has ever been. Why are they holding me down? I need to go after them. We have to go after them. They have our brother. There isn't time for games, we have to go now. There's a pinch on my arm and a warm hand against my skin. The darkness is pulling at my vision again and I roll and pitch and try to run from it, but they're holding me down and my legs won't move. I'm trapped, I'm helpless and there is nowhere left to run.

* * *

><p>Their voices are muffled and distant like there is cotton shoved in my ears. I try to move, but the pain and tightly wound straps, keep me in place. I roll my head to the side and force open my eyes. I'm home. I could smell the lair before my sight confirmed it. I'm home. Somehow, I made it back and now I'm lying, strapped to a table in Donnie's lab. Donnie.<p>

"H-hey!" I try to call out but the word ends in a cough that sends a fresh wave a pain coursing through my body. I don't care. It isn't important. "Hey!" I call out again, this time managing more than a squeak.

Michelangelo slips into my eye line in under ten seconds and I'm sure he was sitting nearby. His hand rests tentatively on my right shoulder and I growl and thrash my head to the side when he attempts to feel the temperature of my forehead with the back of his hand.

"Lemme up," I hiss, pulling at my restraints.

"I can't do that, Raph," he says, looking frantically over his shoulder. "You need to calm down. You're going to pull your stitches again."

"I don't…I don't care, you idiot," I growl, renewing my thrashing. "They've got Donnie. We have to…she's going to…I have to…I can't just…"

The starbursts are back and my skin burns as if I'm on fire. I can't think. I can't move and the cold, blue dread is waiting no matter how I turn my head. Mikey's hand is back and he sniffles.

"I know, man. We're working on it. We're going to get him back. Master Splinter…he'll get him back," he says and each word sounds like a struggle. "But you gotta calm down. You're going to pull your stitches and bleed out…we can't lose you too."

He reaches out for my hand and I grip it like a lifeline. It's the only thing tethering me to consciousness and I'm not about to let it go. The fight leaves my body and I'm only left with the pain and the cold. I swallow back the rising burn of bile in my throat and close my eyes against the glaring overhead light.

"H-how…how did I get here?" I ask.

He sniffles before answering. "Casey found you. He traced your phone after you called him. He managed to stop the bleeding, but Leo and I had to carry you back."

There are flashes of white on red in my memory with long pauses of black in between. "Untie me," I say and he sniffles again.

"I can't do that," he says, holding firm to my hand even as I try to pull away. "You'll try to get up and you're going to hurt yourself."

"I won't," I insist, giving a feeble pull on the restraints. "I…I just…I don't want to be held down," I say, shame burning in my stomach when my voice breaks. "Please, Mikey I promise I won't get up, just untie me. I don't want…I can't…please."

"All right, all right, but you gotta promise to stay put," he says and he sounds scared.

The ties on my wrists loosen and I pull free, bringing up my right hand to rest against my upper plastron. He loosens the binds on my ankles next and I roll my feet. The worst of the panic fades when I'm sure I'm not trapped. Mikey is back at my side, his eyes widened into almost perfect circles. He looks older and somehow childlike all at once with deep lines under his eyes and slight waiver in his chin. This is her fault. She did this to him. She did this to all of us. She's going to pay.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Donnie POV.**

**This chapter gave me a really hard time. I'm hoping to get at least a few new chapters done over the holiday weekend. Again, thanks everyone for commenting and the like. It makes me keep going with this :0)**

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><p>Chapter 11<p>

_Click. Click. Click._

There's a tapping, soft and distant, but growing closer. It's warm and dark and my mind rounds upon the horrible realization that I've fallen asleep. My eyes snap open and in the second it takes for my vision to gain focus it's too late. He presses down on my throat with his cane. I'm on my side and I can't gain leverage with my feet to kick him off. I grip the cane and try desperately to push it away from my throat.

"Hello, little turtle," he growls, pressing down with all his weight.

The light from the heat lamp casts splintered shadows across his face, or what remains of it. Three deep, angry gashes run diagonally from above his left eye to his chin. There is a white gauze patch taped over his eye and I'm sure whatever is underneath isn't something I want to see. I can't be bothered with that right now. I have far more urgent matters to attend to; drawing my next breath for a start. I kick and try desperately to angle my hips so my feet can find a flat surface to push from. Panic sets in as each new second ticks by and his crooked smile grows bigger.

_He's going to kill you and he's going to laugh about it._

"Probably didn't think you would ever see me again, huh?" he asks in a voice that is far too conversational for the situation. "I have to admit it was rather touch and go there for a while."

He eases up enough to let a haggard breath slip past my lips just as the darkness starts to move in at the corner of my vision. I cough and gasp and try again without success to push him off. He laughs. It is a joyless noise, stripped of everything that should be a part of such a sound. He leans in closer and there's a clinical, sterile smell to him that burns my nose and makes me cough once more.

"I'm glad you're here, little turtle," he says with a bored sniff. "I know you wouldn't think so, but I honestly am," he clears his throat and his voice darkens. "You're going to help me catch a rat."

My blood runs cold and I stop flailing. His smile widens and I do my best to keep my own face expressionless. I won't let him know he's getting to me. I won't let them hurt my family and I certainly won't help him do it. I won't. No matter the consequences. I might not have control, I might not have the upper hand, but I will never help him hurt my family. I do have control over that.

"I don't…what are you…talking about?" I ask.

The words are a painful struggle to complete and I break off into another round of coughing. His smile is gone in an instant and he presses down on his cane with a growl. I push up on the cane, managing to lift it somewhat before his knee comes crashing down onto the crack along my plastron. I see stars and I lose any of the leverage I managed to piece together. He's growling again and his face is dangerously close to my ear.

"Do not play dumb with me little turtle," he hisses.

I try not to cry out when his knee comes down again. I want to be stoic. I want to be still and in control and a master of myself like Master Splinter taught us. When his knee lands again I am none of those things. A strangled, animalistic sound rips from my throat and I thrash in a blind panic. I am not in control. I have not been in control for a very long time. I am lost and hurt and very near to that place where pain strips me of my dignity and makes me beg for mercy.

"The rat did this to me," he growls. "And he did it rescuing you. So, again…you are going to help me catch him."

"I…I don't know…he could be anywhere…he…"

I scream when he presses down again, struggling to roll and pitch in any direction.

"Do you think I don't know that you're lying? Do you think you can play me for a fool? We've been hunting you; you and the other freaks. We're not the only ones who want you dead and the criminal element of this city is surprisingly helpful for the right price," he says, lifting his knee in a silent warning. "Tell me where I can find the rat or I will…"

"Fredrick."

She doesn't raise her voice. She doesn't have to. He stops short of hurting me further, but doesn't move. The manic look in his eye has softened to an angry, annoyed glint and he clenches his jaw. Her boots click across the floor and the sound does little to calm my panicked thoughts. I freeze, my fingers wrapped painfully around the cane pressing down on my throat. She stops just beyond my line of vision and the feeling of helplessness is so strong I fear I might be sick.

"What are you doing?" she asks evenly.

"Having a chat with our little friend here," he replies with thinly veiled disdain. "Isn't that right, freak?"

"Back away, Fredrick," she says and her toe starts to tap out an annoyed pattern on the floor. "Now," she adds when he doesn't move.

The cane lifts from my throat and he uses it to hoist himself up to standing. I cough and instantly push back and away in panic; reaching the end of the chain too quickly. Neither of them gives me a second glance. Their eyes are locked and it's a silent argument, a battle of wills that has very little to do with me. I press my back against the tank wall and draw my knees up to my chest. I hope this preoccupation lasts and they leave without tormenting me any further. I rarely get what I want.

"You're not the boss of me, Amelia," Fredrick growls, but he leaves just the same.

He swipes his keycard through the lock and then I'm alone with her. I would almost prefer his anger and thirst for revenge. Anger I understand. Revenge I understand. I don't like it, but I know it. It burns hot with righteousness and more often than not ends in physical violence. Her cold, dead eyes and expressionless face are something different all together. It's cool and calculated and devoid of the things that make a person human. It's a look so devoid of empathy and feeling it makes me shiver and turns my stomach into knots. She's waiting for me to speak first. I won't. I have nothing to say to her.

"He's a bit upset," she finally says with a sigh that is nothing but annoyance turned into air. "He's always been fussy about his appearance."

She takes a few more steps into the tank before sitting down on the floor. She tugs on the bottom of her suit coat and sets a black folder down in front of her. I don't move. If she has something to say she can go ahead and say it.

"How do you like your new accommodations?" she asks with a quick wave around the tank. "I must say, you put on quite the show. It really was a treat for my employees. None of them have ever seen a mutant before," she says with the detached and professional air of someone leading a board meeting.

_You could wrap this chain around her throat. It would be easy. You're strong enough. She couldn't stop you…but then what? You'd still be stuck in this tank, Genius._

"They all signed confidentiality agreements of course."

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask, stopping her short of anymore inane commentary.

She tilts her head and presses her lips together in a tight line. "No, Donatello," she replies and the sound of my name on her lips makes me feel sick inside.

I must make a face because her mouth curves into a perversion of a smile and there's a cold, predatory glint in her eyes when they catch the light.

"Yes, I know your name," she says, flipping open the folder. "I know a great deal about you and the other freaks."

I don't move from my place against the glass, but even in the dim light I can make out the pile of grainy photographs of turtle-shaped figures silhouetted against the night sky. There are documents as well, some typed neatly in English, while others are littered with the sharp letters of the Kraang. She runs her thumb down the length of one of the photos. It's me, with a hooded sweatshirt and a bag over my shoulder. It must be from a security camera at the warehouse.

"You didn't think the system at the warehouse was the only place we keep our files did you?" she asks, snapping the folder shut.

I don't answer. I stare forward and clench my jaw to keep from saying something I'll regret. She doesn't care what I have to say anyway. She wants to taunt me, humiliate me. I won't give her the satisfaction of playing along. I am still. I am in control of my own thoughts and actions. She can't take that away from me.

"You've been trying to break through my new security measures," she says with an annoyed click of her tongue.

"Didn't really have to try," I sneer, my pride snapping out the blunt reply before my better judgment can stop it.

"How long did it take you?" she asks, grinding her teeth and I'm certain I've just caused some poor programmer untold pain in the near future.

"Few hours," I grumble with a shrug.

She's furious. It starts with a slow in intake of breath through her nose and ends with her hand balling into a fist. I should have kept my mouth shut. I take hold of the chain in my left hand in case she tries to pull on it. I won't be choked again. She picks up the folder and stands with one, fluid movement.

_Change the subject, Idiot._

"What are you going to do with me?" I ask, not wanting to know the answer but needing it all the same.

Her shoulders roll back and she lifts up her chin. "What do you think I should do with you?" she asks with another angry press of her lips.

I don't respond. Any suggestion I may have would only result in taunting and possibly pain.

"I know you think I'm the bad guy here," she says. "But I'm just a business woman."

_Can't she be both?_

"You and your freak friends cost me a lot of money when you destroyed that warehouse."

The anger is gone and the cold, snake eyes are back. She thinks she's being logical. I can appreciate logic. I live in its warm embrace, but there's a line to adhere to and she crossed it ages ago. She's callous and cruel and using business and logic to mask her heartless endeavors. I shift, causing the chain to rustle and don't rise to her bait. I won't argue with her. There isn't any point.

"You're going to help me regain that lost revenue," she says as a matter of fact. "I'm going to sell you to the highest bidder and believe me, there are plenty interested in owning you. It should be quite the auction."

I feel my stomach drop and a lump settle in my throat. My heart rate increases until each beat thrums and pounds in my ears. She looks pleased or as close as her features can come to the expression. I struggle to draw breath and panic threatens to make my eyes water and my hands shake. I grip my knees tight to keep from trembling.

"I have some Japanese investors that are particularly interested in getting you into their labs," she says with a tap of her toe. "You'll never see New York or those other freaks ever again and you'll die locked away in a cage just like you deserve," she growls, sliding her card through the lock with a flick of her wrist, leaving me alone in the dark.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author Note: All right, this is my first Mikey POV for this particular story. It's a struggle to write him sad. Just a short update this time around.**

**It's not much of a secret that I have a deep love for the B-Team, so I feel like Mikey would be taking this harder than the others. Angst ahead: You have been warned.**

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><p>Chapter 12<p>

Michelangelo

The lab is quiet. It doesn't seem right. Not even when it's this late. It should be filled with noise; the crackle of a blowtorch or the clang of metal even the soft click of a keyboard. The quiet is wrong. We shouldn't be in here without Donnie. The lab is his. We'll just mess things up if he's not here to tell us where everything goes. It should be noisy. The quiet is wrong. Everything is wrong. We need Donnie to fix it. I need Donnie to fix it. He should be here. It isn't right.

"M-Mike?"

Raph's strained voice breaks through the quiet, making me jump in surprise. I sniff and wipe at my tired eyes, surprised to find tears running down my face. I can't let Raph see me cry. He's bad off. I need to take care of him. I have to be strong. I told Master Splinter I would watch over him through the night. I can't let him down. I can't fix it, not like Donnie would, but I'll help where I can. I can dry my tears and act strong for my brothers.

"I'm right here, Raph," I say quietly, resting my hand over his. "What do you need?"

His eyes are little more than slits and what I can see of them is glassy and unfocused. Master Splinter gave him something for the pain, even though at first he insisted he didn't need it. The shot through his arm went straight through the muscle, miraculously missing the bone. His leg wasn't so lucky. Sensei did his best to remove the bullet, but Raph lost a lot of blood. He was covered in the stuff when we carried him home and only lost more when Sensei set to work. It coated the floor beneath the table and soaked through the sheet and bandages. I didn't know we had that much blood. Donnie won't be happy that we stained the floor. I'll clean it later.

"I…I need…thirsty," he says and the words trail off into a hacking cough.

"Right, all right, yes, I'll get you some water," I say with a nod. "I'll be right back. I'll be right back."

I give his hand a reassuring squeeze and stumble towards the kitchen on tired legs. I skid to a halt in the entryway and grip the door frame for support. Leo is sitting at the table with his head lowered in his hands. I didn't expect to find anyone here and the surprise of it leaves me speechless. I don't want to interrupt him. I don't want to bother him. His shoulders curl forward and every muscle in his body is tense. I consider going to the bathroom for water. He has enough to worry about. He doesn't need me to bother him right now. I have to find things I can help with. I need to stay out of the way. He lifts his head and I have no choice but to remain.

"Hey Leo," I say quietly. "I uh, Raph's thirsty. I'm getting him some water."

"Is he awake?" Casey asks from the doorway.

I didn't hear him approach. I need to pay better attention. He's still covered in Raph's blood and the sight of it turns my stomach.

"Yeah…he's pretty out of it though," I say, taking a glass down from the cupboard. "Hopefully he'll go back to sleep after some water."

Casey nods and lifts his hand to the back of his neck. He looks awful. We all do. I know he's been trying to trace Donnie's T-Phone without any luck. I'm sure Donnie made it self-destruct. He wouldn't risk letting those people get a hold of all the information he keeps on there. He's too smart for that. I pull my hand back in surprise when the water spills over the top of the glass. I'm not paying attention. I need to get it together. I can't think of Donnie in that place. It starts pinpricks at the back of my eyes and a painful roll in my stomach. I can't help anyone if I break down.

I turn off the tap and wipe the sides of the glass clear of water. Leo still hasn't said a word. He shifts on his elbows and I catch a glimpse of blueprints spread out across the table. I'll leave him to it. He has important things to do. He has to come up with a plan. I won't distract him. He needs to figure this out, the sooner the better. It might already be too late. The thought turns the pinpricks into a deep burn and I lower my gaze so neither of them will see the inevitable tears that are sure to follow.

"I'll come with ya, Mikey," Casey says and my throat is too tight to attempt a response so I simply nod.

Raph is asleep when we reach the lab. I settle into Donnie's computer chair and set the glass beside me in case Raph wakes again. I shouldn't sit in his chair. It's Donnie's. He'll need it when he gets back. He's very particular about his things. I run my hand over the arm and settle my gaze on some of the subtle carvings along the desktop. I trace my finger along the shallow groves, feeling my chest tighten with each passing second. I swallow and stare straight down. Maybe if I keep my eyes open, maybe if I don't blink, I can stop the tears from falling.

"We're going to get him back, Mikey."

My head snaps up and I feel the warmth of the tears trailing down my face, my emotions betray me once more. I almost forgot Casey is in the room. He isn't looking at me and I'm grateful. I wipe at the tears with the back of my hand and try to sniff as quietly as possible.

"I…I know," I say, swallowing around the lump lodged in my throat. "Leo and Master Splinter they…they'll make a plan."

He nods, never lifting his gaze from Raph's face. Anger settles on Casey's features and I know it's his way of dealing with this. He'll probably growl and threaten and punch something if the opportunity arises. He and Raph are two peas in a pod that way. Why talk about your feelings when you can punch them. If that's what they need to feel better who I am to judge? I sniffle again and wipe the remaining tears from my face. I lean forward slightly in the chair and wrap my arms tight around myself. The pressure against my arms is just enough to ward off the worst of my thoughts. It's not a real hug, but it'll have to do.

"That woman…those people…they're going to pay, Mikey," he growls the inevitable threat. "They won't get away with this. If I get my hands on them…" he trails off and curls his finger as if he strangling someone.

"Right," I reply, not knowing what else to say.

I could egg him on or agree and add my own threats to the mix. I don't have the energy for it and if I'm honest, revenge is the last thing from my mind. I just want my brother home safe. I want Raph to be all right. I want Leo to lose that horrible, lost look to his eyes and come up with the perfect plan to save the day. I want Sensei to tell me everything is going to be all right and for him to mean it. Instead, I only nod and rock back in the chair. The squeal of the joints sounds loud and abrasive in the quiet room and it seems to jolt Casey from his anger-fueled thoughts.

"Has anyone…I mean, does April know?" he asks and he sounds defeated.

It's strange to hear his voice covered in such a tone. He's usually confident beyond reason. Things must be truly lost if Casey Jones is throwing in the towel. I feel sick inside, like something rotten has taken up residence in my guts and is gnawing away in there. Of course we should have told April. I should have told April. She needs to know. I can't do it, not tonight, not without having at least a glimmer of hope or an inkling of a plan to soften the blow. It isn't fair. They were just starting to be happy. They were both finally admitting what the rest of us have always known. I can't take that away from her.

"Maybe…maybe in the morning," I say and he nods in agreement. "I'm sure she's sleeping. I don't want to wake her."

He bites his bottom lip and nods again. We fall into a fragile silence that's only broken by the occasional sigh or groan from Raphael. Casey perks up at each noise, straightening in his chair as if he's ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. I don't have the heart to tell him that this type of trouble isn't the kind you can hit. I lean forward and rest my chin in my hands, staring at the carvings on the desktop until the lines blur and blend into one another. I wish this was the type of trouble you can hit. I wish that's all it would take to fix this. Most of all I wish Donnie was home safe. I need him to be safe. I need him. We're a team.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Notes: Back with a Donnie POV. He's still not having a very good day. Angst ahead.**

**There's the introduction of a new OC as well. Someone I'm particularly fond of so I hope others like him as well :0) **

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><p>Chapter<p>

13

I'm cold. It's a damp, persistent cold that makes my joints ache. I focus on the sensation. It is the least of my worries and if I don't focus on something trivial like the temperature my mind will round back to what happened in the last hour. I don't want to think about that. It is the last thing I want to think about. So of course, I can't escape it. It replays over and over in mind no matter how hard I try to avoid it.

They came for me after Amelia left. I pressed into the corner and tried to fight back, but there were four of them and they were armed. The first shock of the Taser caught me off guard. A strained cry fought from my throat as my muscle contracted and I fell to the floor. They laughed. Even as I writhed in pain after another shock I could still hear them laughing. They forced me to my feet before I was ready to stand. My muscles twitched and cramped and they continued to laugh as I stumbled to the ground once more.

Two of them took hold of my arms and dragged me from the tank. I wanted to run. I couldn't get my limbs to obey my thoughts and when I tried it only resulted in more laughter from the guards. I struggled to move as they continued down a hallway. The collar was still tight around my throat and when we reached our destination a short line of chain tethered me to the wall. There were tiles and dripping faucets overhead. Before I could regain my bearings they turned the hose on me.

The cold water was almost as much of a shock to my system as the Taser. I cried out, flailing and rolling in an attempt to avoid the icy spray. I curled against the wall so my carapace would take the brunt of the water. The relief didn't last. They fell on me, pinning me to the ground. I bit my lip and tried to keep from calling out as they held me down and scrubbed at my shell and exposed skin with rough-bristled brushes. The brushes were nothing compared to the laughter and endless barrage of insults.

I tried not to listen. I tried not to let their words get to me. They wanted to humiliate me. They wanted me to fight back. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. I stared at the circle of water swirling into the drain. They were just words. Harsh and cruel words, but they were nothing the dark voice in my head hadn't ever whispered. They weren't anything I hadn't heard before. I could be still. I could wait them out. Ignoring them was easier in the moment, when I could focus on the pain. Now, alone, chained to a metal exam table my mind can't help but play their words over and over in my head.

I sit up. The chain is just long enough to allow me to perch on the edge of the table and I strain to move just a little bit further. There are at least three security cameras mounted to the ceiling and I can hear the low rumble of a guard on the opposite side of the door. I've never been to a doctor's office, but I imagine this is what an exam room looks like. There's a single, metal sink beneath a series of cupboards near the door. The table takes up almost the entire length of the room and a wheeled stool sits off to the side. All that's missing is an inspirational poster with a cat on it.

The door opens and I inch back on the table. The guard has his gun raised and there's only a slight sense of relief that it seems to be a tranquilizer. He's not alone. A small, white-haired man in a lab coat lingers beside him. His almost comically large glasses magnify his eyes which are round as dinner plates and staring at me without blinking. I almost prefer the laughter and taunting to the open-mouthed stare.

"Sit against the wall, freak," the guard says with a wave of his gun's barrel.

I do as I'm told, sliding back on the table until my carapace hits the wall.

"This is Dr. Feinstein," the guard says, meeting my glare with one of his own. "He's going to examine you and you're not going to give him any trouble. Understand?"

The way he says 'examine,' makes me feel sick inside. My stomach rolls and the taste of bile moves up my throat. I continue to glare, intent on not showing this man any fear. I won't let them scare me. I am in control of that at least. The guard sighs when I don't respond, cocking his weapon in warning. I offer a tiny nod in response. The guard snorts and the sound makes me grind my teeth in anger. If I wasn't chained to this table I would break his nose.

_But you are chained to the table, tough guy._

"All right, Doc," the guard says with a nauseating clearing of his sinuses. "Have at it."

Dr. Feinstein blinks for the first time since entering the room. He reaches up with one hand to adjust his glasses. There is a thick file folder clutched in his other hand and he almost drops it when he shuffles around the guard. He sets the folder down on the thin strip of counter top alongside the sink. He reaches up to the cupboards above and starts rummaging through the supplies.

"I don't think we need an audience," he says calmly.

His voice reminds me more than a little of Master Splinter when he's annoyed. It's not a comforting comparison. The guard snorts again with a curl of his lip.

"It's a dangerous mutant, Doc. Not one of your dime-store turtles," he says with a disgusting chortle.

Dr. Feinstein washes his hands and waits until he starts to dry them as though he is seriously considering the man's words before replying. "He's not going to give me any trouble," he says, glancing over at me with a raise of his bushy eyebrows. "Are you?"

I don't know what his angle is, but if it means the guard will leave I'm willing to play along. I shake my head no and draw my knees up to my chest in an attempt to look even more pathetic and harmless. The guard curls his lip into a sneer and shakes his head.

"Your funeral Doc," he mutters with a quick jerk of his head towards one of the cameras. "We'll be watching. Give a holler if you need anything."

"I won't need anything," he replies, rolling the stool over to the counter.

He flips open the file folder and starts leafing through the contents, not paying the guard any mind as he grumbles and slams the door shut behind him. Dr. Feinstein continues to look over the files and it takes me a moment to realize he's humming. It's disconcerting. I feel my chest start to tighten and I try to move far enough over to see what is inside of the cupboards. He swivels around in his chair and I blink back at the inquisitive look on his face. I know that look well. I give it to my experiments and projects.

"What kind of doctor are you?" I ask quietly.

His eyes widen and he takes in a sharp breath. He sets the file down, forgotten and rolls closer to the table. "So, you can speak," he says with a tiny, amazed laugh and a shake of his head. "Amazing."

"Not really," I mutter, squirming under his continued stares. "What kind of doctor are you?" I ask again.

The harsh tone of my voice snaps him from his reverie and he clears his throat. "I'm a veterinarian," he replies, taking off his glasses to polish on the edge of his lab coat. "I specialize in reptiles."

_Of course he's a veterinarian. Who else would they send to examine an animal?_

I swallow back another wave of nausea but can't keep my face from warming in humiliation. "And you work here?"

"Uh, no, not exactly," he says, pushing his glasses back up onto his nose. "The company contacted me, said they had a rare reptile and needed my expertise."

"I hope I don't disappoint," I sneer, wrapping my arms tightly around my knees.

He laughs. It isn't cruel and taunting like the guards, but it unnerves me just the same. "No, no you certainly don't disappoint," he says, inching closer. "In fact, if I can be frank, you're the most amazing thing I've ever seen. An anthropomorphic turtle capable of human speech, honestly, if they had told me what they were bringing me in to examine I wouldn't have believed it."

"Who," I say and the word catches in my throat. I try to hide the fact with a stern look and a sharp voice. "Who, not what."

He stares at me again and after several more prolonged moments of silence I think he might call in the guards. "Indeed," he murmurs with a short nod.

He stands up and takes a step towards the table. I instinctively recoil against the wall, the chain rattling loudly when I move. I'm ashamed that I let him scare me. He's half my size and probably three times my age. I shouldn't be afraid of this old man in a lab coat, but I am and he knows it. The memories of the Taser and Fredrick's cane pressing against my throat are too fresh. It doesn't matter if I'm bigger or stronger than someone. They can still hurt me and they will if given the chance. He holds his hands up, palms facing me to show he means no harm. It's the stance of someone used to dealing with unpredictable animals and it only makes me feel worse.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says and I want to believe him.

I want to believe him with every part of me. I need an ally. I need to know I'm safe, if only for a few minutes. I need time to think without having to worry about where the next attack is going to come from. I need this to not be some sort of sick trap. I wouldn't put it past her. She probably sent him in here, told him to be kind to me so when the inevitable blow comes it will sting just a little bit more.

"Do…do you have a name?" he asks.

"Donatello," I whisper and the sternness in my voice is nothing but a distant memory.

He nods with that thoughtful expression returning to his face. "Donatello, huh?" he says. "I like it. It suits you."

_This is a trap, you idiot. Don't talk to him. Stop talking to him!_

"Thank you," I say instead, my need for kindness, any kindness so great I decide to ignore my common sense.

"You're welcome," he replies, pulling out a pair of rubber gloves from the dispenser attached to the cupboard. "Now, Donatello, I'm not going to hurt you, I promise, but I do have to examine you. I really don't want to have to call the guard back in here," he says, forcing my gaze. "Are you going to try to hurt me if I examine you?"

I shake my head no and lower my head to stare at my hands. I can feel my chest tighten and the threat of tears is very real. I didn't want to admit it before. I didn't want to give in. There is always hope. Only when there isn't. Raphael is dead. They shot him. I saw them shoot him. I saw him fall. If he had lived they would have tried to rescue me by now. They wouldn't just leave me here. They wouldn't just leave me.

"All right, we have an agreement," Dr. Feinstein says, tapping his hand on the metal table top.

The loud clang pulls me from my downward spiral and my head snaps up. I take in a deep breath and the threat of tears is gone. There's nothing left but the cold, empty feeling of dread sitting heavy in my stomach. If I focus on that maybe I can block out everything else. There won't be shame or humiliation or the agonizing thought that my brother died alone in some alleyway. There will only be the cold and the nothingness. It's logical. It can make sense if I make it. Feeling nothing has to be better than the alternatives.

"Please sit on the edge of the table," Dr. Feinstein says and I follow the order without an argument or complaint.

He starts to poke and prod and I stare straight ahead with my back as straight as a pin. I go away. I slip inside my own head, running numbers and algorithms and anything else that can take me away from the moment. He's cautious at first, but soon his curiosity gets the better of him and he's taking measurements and shell impressions all the while muttering excitedly to himself. I understand. I'm a scientist too after all.

"Donatello?"

I blink, surprised to find him staring up at me with an expectant gleam in his eyes. I swallow and struggle to find my voice.

"What?" I reply.

"I asked you what you used to mend your plastron," he says, repeating himself.

I look down at the crack as though I forgot it is there. "Oh, uh, boat resin."

He nods and scribbles in his notebook. "Excellent, that is excellent," he murmurs, tapping the pencil on the paper. "I must say, I would really like to scan you. See what your skeletal system looks like and your organs. It must be incredibly fascinating. Have you ever had an X-ray or CT scan?"

I shake my head no.

_He's going to dissect you and she's going to let him. She was never going to sell you, that was a lie. They're going to strap you down and let this old man cut you open._

"Please," the word escapes before I can stop it and the cold, dead feeling inside melts under the fire of panic in my chest. "Please, you…you have to…if you help me get out of here. I…you can study me all you want. I promise, just…please, I…I need your help."

_Nice. Not even two days and you're already begging, pathetic._

The excitement is gone from his eyes and I see his gaze flicker towards one of the security cameras. "I'm only here to make sure you're healthy," he replies and the words are careful and chosen with precision. We're not alone and he's seen what she does to those who anger her.

The panic settles back into despair and I search desperately for the nothingness as my eyes burn and my blood rushes in my ears. It was stupid. I was stupid. Of course he can't help me. This man doesn't owe me anything and it was careless and selfish to demand it from him. I slump forward and rest my face in my hands. There's a rustling of papers and the snap of his gloves as he pulls them from his skin. He moves to pick up his stethoscope from the table beside me.

"I am sorry," he says, turning away before I can even be sure he said the words.

The door kicks open without warning and there's a guard waiting. "All done, Doc," he growls and it is not a question.

"All done," he replies with a nod, leaving me alone with the cold and nothingness.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Notes: Thank you everyone for the reviews of the last chapter. I'm glad people seem to enjoy Dr. Feinstein as much as i like writing him. I've got some plans for that sassy old guy :0)**

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><p>Chapter 14<p>

I don't know how long I've been in here. There isn't a clock or window to track the rising and setting of the sun. The coming and goings of the guards are sporadic at best and none of them are particularly chatty when they venture inside the tank. I keep to the corner mostly, with my shell to the wall and my eyes able to scan every other inch of the confining space. I'm not going to let anyone sneak up on me again.

They bring food and water, sliding it towards me on metal trays. I hold out as long as I can. The hunger is easier to ignore. Eventually my thirst is so great I have no choice but to chance drinking. I sniff the water before taking a tentative sip. It hurts to swallow, more than it should and there's the unmistakable metallic tang of blood on my tongue. I force down another sip, swallowing past the pain. I need to hydrate. I won't be able to do anything if my head spins at the slightest movement.

_They wouldn't go through all this trouble only to poison you. She wants you somewhat presentable for her buyers. Just drink the water._

The first few sips settle in my empty stomach without complication so I down the rest of the bottle in record time. I crush the bottle in my hand, the loud crack of the plastic echoing off the glass walls of the tank. I peel off the label and roll the paper between my thumb and forefinger. The hunger and thirst are bad enough. I can deal with that. It's a physical need that has a simple solution to alleviate the pain. The forced idleness is another challenge entirely.

It isn't the quiet that is getting to me or even the isolation. I'm used to isolation. I sometimes, actively seek it out. This is nothing like that. I'm not hunkered down in my lab for some peace and quiet with my latest project to keep me busy. No, I'm chained to the floor of a cage with nothing to occupy my mind and body but my increasingly dark thoughts and the occasional silent visit from a stone-faced guard. I need to do something, anything. I can't just sit here.

I pull the metal tray towards me and sift through the meager contents. There's half a bologna sandwich, a pile of wilted lettuce and a cup of applesauce. I eat the sandwich in two bites and follow it with the lettuce. Its iceberg, mostly water and well beyond its intended sell-by date I'm sure. I'm to the point where I don't care and chew quickly and swallow to avoid tasting it as much as possible. I roll the cup of applesauce around my palm. I'm still hungry. I'm still very hungry, but there is a hunger worse than the one in my stomach.

I turn the cup over and smear the applesauce over as much of the floor as it will reach. I tear apart the water bottle into narrow strips and start scratching out equations in the mess. I lose myself to it. I have to, I need to. The numbers settle me. They usually do. I can put all of my focus into the problems. I can block out the dark thoughts and the pain and think of nothing but the numbers. I may not be still. I can't sit for hours like Leo or Master Splinter, but this is my meditation and I need it as much as food or water, maybe more.

The door opens with a loud click and any calm I mustered tightens into anxiety in my chest. I scuttle back into my corner, pressing my shell against the glass. Two guards enter first with their tranquilizer guns at the ready. They fan out and scan the space before giving the all clear. I'm not sure what they think I could have gotten up to chained to the ground, but I feel the slightest sense of pride that they feel the need to worry.

"Ugh, stupid freak made a mess," one of them grumbles with a curl of his lip at my make-shift applesauce chalkboard.

"Don't touch that."

The command is followed by shuffling footsteps and the swish of a lab coat. Dr. Feinstein kneels in front of me despite the hurried warnings of the guards. He waves them off impatiently and leans over to inspect my work. He moves his finger over the equations and mouths them to himself. He blinks and turns to look up at me.

"Where did you learn how to do this?" he asks quietly.

_He can't help you. He's not being kind, he's just fascinated. You're an experiment, something to be studied._

I shrug and look down at my hands.

"Amazing," he says with a tiny chuckle. "These are highly complex equations. That is…that is just remarkable."

"Real interesting Doc, but you've got a job to do," one of the guards snaps and I can't help but notice the sudden crease in-between Dr. Feinstein's eyes.

He leans back on his heels and his eyes narrow. I know that look. I've seen it a hundred times on Raph's face when someone tells him what to do. Unlike my brother it's a quiet anger and is gone in an instant. I meet his gaze and there's a glimmer of understanding behind his glasses that makes the tiniest squirm of hope twinge in my chest. He clears his throat and stands, smoothing out his lab coat.

"On your feet," he says with a nod. "If you do as you are told you won't be hurt. Right, gentlemen?" he adds with a warning glance over his shoulder at the guards.

"We're only here for when it steps out of line," the larger man replies with a sickening leer.

He moves forward, the barrel of his gun leading the way. The chain rustles as he pulls the key from his belt and undoes the lock connected to the floor. My instincts scream for me to run. The collar is still around my neck, but I'm free from my tether and the relief is so bright it clouds my judgment. I close my hand until a sharp stab of pain travels up through my wrist. I need the distraction. I can't run. There's nowhere to go. They'd shoot me before I reached the door. The guard wraps the remainder of the chain around his arm and nudges the barrel of his gun into my shell.

"Walk," he snarls with another, less gentle nudge.

I stumble forward through the door and out into the hallway. My entire body aches and the pain in my head and throat seems to grow with every wobbly step. Dr. Feinstein walks along beside me. He's clutching a metal clipboard overflowing with papers. I try to read over his shoulder, but he moves them to hold against his chest.

"Where are we going?" I ask, unable to keep some of my anxiety from creeping into my voice.

"Shut up," the guard replies, giving the chain a yank.

My head snaps back and the collar presses against my bruised throat. I wince and gag, reaching out a hand to catch myself on the wall. The guards laugh and the chain rattles again. I move with flailing hands, trying to take hold of the chain before he can pull on it again. Dr. Feinstein steps up to the guard, waving his clipboard in the face of the much bigger man.

"What is wrong with you?" he demands, poking him in the chest.

"The freak was acting up, I'm just doing my job…"

"Is your job to injure him right before Ms. Zhao has her meeting with the buyers?" he asks, jabbing him again. "Or maybe you would like to explain to her why he's covered in bruises?"

The guard swallows and lifts his gun to hold it closer to his body as if it might offer solace. "No, I mean, of course not. I hardly pulled the chain. It's fine."

A disapproving snort of air pushes from Dr. Feinstein's nose and he shakes his head with an ever deepening scowl. "We'll see about that," he mutters, stalking down the hallway and waving for us to follow.

I fall into step beside him, my jaw clamped tight to keep my chin from wavering. Part of me hoped her threats had been idle ones. That she had no intention of actually selling me to the highest bidder. This can't happen today. There hasn't been enough time. I need time to think of a plan. I need time to try my luck at escape. My family needs more time to rescue me.

_If they were going to rescue you, don't you think they'd have done it by now? They're not coming. She's going to sell you like livestock and you're going to spend the rest of your life as someone's lab rat._

"Are…sh-she's going to…to sell me today?" I ask, not caring if the question is met with another yank of the chain.

Dr. Feinstein stares straight ahead, but I see him flinch at the words.

"She's meeting with her buyers for a showing," he replies, his jaw tightening. "She's going to present you and have me go over some of my findings. It shouldn't take long," he explains, stopping in front of a pair of double doors. "Stay quiet, be still and it will be over with before you know it," he adds, low enough so no one else hears.

The guard opens the door and the creak of the hinges is enough to fill me with dread. My chest tightens and panic cuts off any breath before it can reach my lungs. My feet seem fixed to the floor and it takes a push to my shell to make me move forward. A boardroom waits for us on the other side. It is like any other I assume, with a long wooden table at the center and an electronic message board at the far end. Amelia sits at the head of the table, the beginning of a smile tugs at one corner of her mouth and the pleased look on her face is enough to squash my growing panic. I won't let her see me cower.

I take in a slow breath through my nose and raise my chin to meet her gaze. The small group of strangers gathered around the table turn at the sound of the doors opening. More than one of them gasps at the sight of me. I won't look at them. I won't give any indication that their stares and whispers make me feel sick inside. I won't give her the satisfaction. I am not an animal and I won't give her the pleasure of acting like one. I flinch when Dr. Feinstein takes hold of my arm to guide me over to the opposite side of the room. Amelia stands, resting her palms on the smooth surface of the table.

"Ladies and gentleman," she says, quieting any side conversations with only those three words. "I'd like to thank all of you for coming. There will be time for questions after the presentation. If you would please give your attention to Dr. Feinstein, I'm sure you're all eager to get started."

The doctor clears his throat and flips through his notes. Pushing his glasses up onto his nose he reads from his papers, giving a clinical breakdown of my most basic attributes. I do as he said. I'm silent, I'm still and yet it is not over with before I know it. It drags on for what seems like hours. I try not to listen. I clench my jaw until blood rushes in my ears, hoping to block out their voices. I have to detach. I have to think of something else, anything else besides this burning, painful humiliation.

I want to run and hide from the eyes that won't stop staring. This is everything Sensei warned us about as children. Humans will never understand us. Humans will hurt us. There may be a few, rare individuals who can see past what we are, but they are not the majority. They are not normal. Normal is this group of men and women in suits staring at me like I'm a monster. Talking about me like I can't understand every word or worse yet, knowing I can but not caring.

I close my hand and try to focus on the pain. It's sharp and grows with every press of my fingers into my palm. I cling to it like a life raft. I need to stop feeling. I cut myself off before, I can do it again. The cold, heavy weight of nothingness settles in my chest and the force of it is so all encompassing that I don't even register that the meeting is over. The barrel of the gun is back on my shell and I stumble forward with the pull on my chain. The hallway seems shorter now that I know my destination and I stand silent and still as the guard locks my chain into place on the tank floor.

_All alone._

I slowly open my hand, but the damage is done and I'm certain it will ache for a good long while. I don't care. It doesn't matter. Everything else hurts my hand might as well hurt too. The lamp overhead crackles and hums. I drop to my knees before I realize my legs are going to give out. I'm not wearing my knee pads and the sudden assault on my joints snaps me from my cold haze. I lean forward and a choking sob rips from my throat. I rein it back in and pinch my eyes shut to keep from crying. I won't let her beat me. I'm sure she is watching. I won't cry. I will not give her the satisfaction.

"You made quite the impression in there, little turtle."

I push back on my knees and slam my shell into the glass wall, preparing myself for an attack that doesn't come. He stands just inside the door, leaning on his cane with one hand, while holding something else in the other. He rolls it over in his palm and my eyes widen when I see the familiar oval shape of my T-phone.

"Your little freak friends can track this, can't they?" he asks, lazily moving his thumb over the screen. "I wasn't able to crack through your security, but it doesn't matter. By now they must have the location," he grins, dropping the phone onto the ground with a clatter. "The rat will come for you, won't he?" he asks.

I shake my head, trying desperately to keep my voice steady. "If anyone was coming they would have been here by now."

He smiles. "He'll come," he says, moving his cane to hover over the T-phone. "And when he does I'll be ready for him this time."

He slams the cane down, shattering the phone in two.


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's notes: Raphael POV this time around. **

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><p>Chapter 15<p>

Raphael

"I'm going with you Leo, end of discussion," I growl, gritting my teeth as I try to swing my feet to the ground.

My vision goes black. Mikey is by my side in an instant and if I wasn't using all of my concentration to stay conscious I would tell him to back off. He grips my uninjured arm and rests a strong hand on the back of my shell to keep me from toppling over. I take a few more short breaths through my nose until the tearing, burn of pain in my shoulder and leg dulls to something almost manageable. I lift my head to glare at Leo, painfully aware that I'm shaking and a cold sheen of sweat covers my skin.

"I'm…going."

"Don't be stupid, Raph," April says.

She's sitting against the far wall of the lab in Donnie's chair. She pulls her knees up to her chest and stares down at the floor like it might offer some answers. They're the first words I've heard her utter in over an hour and the shock of her sudden voice is enough to almost make me forget that she called me stupid. Mikey's grip tightens on my arm. Maybe he thinks I'm going to retaliate against the insult. I couldn't if I wanted to.

"I can't…you guys can't expect me to sit here and do nothing," I say, turning my anger back towards Leo where it belongs.

"You won't be doing nothing," Mikey says, not loosening his grip. "You and April will be running the command center."

"I don't know how any of this works," I snap with a wave at all the computer screens and towers. "This is…"

I stop talking. I was going to say this is Donnie's stuff, but I can't bring myself to say his name out loud. What good am I in his lab? Even without him here I'd only be in the way. There's a creak and groan as April leans back in the chair. Her face is paler than usual and the dusting of freckles across her nose stands out all the brighter. Mikey told her what happened, called her to the lair and broke the news. She didn't say much, has said even less since. She stood, straight as a pin and only let out a small whimper when he wrapped her in a hug. I think he needed the contact more than she did.

"And what about you, April?" I demand, not willing to go down without a fight. I need an ally, any ally and I can't imagine she's too happy with the way things are playing out. "You're fine with them leaving us here?"

"That's enough, Raph," Leo says quietly with that tiny hint of warning in his voice he loves to use when he's feeling superior.

I don't need him to tell me when it's enough. I lean forward on the table and point in April's direction.

"She's got him and you're all right staying down here and hiding while…"

"Dude, enough," Casey insists.

I pull back, taking in a strong breath through my nose and turning to him in disbelief.

"You got shot, man," he says with a sigh that seems to lift his entire torso with the strength of it.

His voice is heavy with something I can't quite place, but it makes me feel uncomfortable and guilty all the same. I can't look at him. I can't look at any of them. There's another sigh and he barrels on in that heavy, serious tone that sounds so wrong coming from his mouth.

"I know you want to help. I know you want to storm the castle with us. I get it. I understand, we all do, but you can barely sit up, Raph. You gotta stay here. It's the only option. Help April. That's how you can help."

He's right. I know he's right. It doesn't matter. It still pisses me off. I swallow, but it does nothing to move the lump that settles in my throat. Mikey pulls me a little bit closer and I'm too tired, too defeated to push him away. This is what I get for letting my guard down. Those loser Purple Dragons never should have snuck up on us. If I'd been thinking, if I had done my job, none of this would have happened.

"We'll get him back, Raph," Mikey says in a whisper.

He's trying to be strong. He's trying to stay positive like he always does, but I can hear the waiver in his voice and feel the way he's reluctant to let go of me. He's worried and if Mikey is worried that can't bode well for the plan. He's supposed to be the half-glass-full guy. The room spins and I should really lie down. I won't. That would be too much like giving in or proving them right. I lean on Mikey for support, knowing I can count on him to give it without comment.

"We have his last location locked down," April says in a voice that's uncomfortably clinical and void of emotion. "His signal disappeared a few hours ago, but we can pinpoint the last location to a certain floor at least," she motions to a series of little flashing lights on the nearest computer screen.

Leo and Casey gather around the screen, going over their final plans in hushed voices. They stop as Master Splinter enters the lab, his staff clicking on the floor as he walks. April picks up the conversation without losing a beat and soon it's like I'm not even in the room. They've said their peace, they've put me in my place and now all I can do is stay out of the way.

"We'll get him back," Mikey whispers again, the words followed by a sharp intake of breath. "We have to get him back."

I put my arm around his shoulders, trying to ignore the pain it sends tearing through my body. He leans against me, watching the others with a frown.

"It's gonna be all right," I murmur.

The attempt at reassurance doesn't sound sincere, but just the fact that I tried seems to be enough for my little brother. He nods and sniffs before wiggling out from my side with a shaky smile. He's hopeful Mikey again and I don't have the heart to tell him I think it's a lie. That we're probably wasting our time. That we already lost.

"Yeah, of course it is," he says. "In and out. They won't even know we're there."

Not much else is said. There's nothing really to say. The plan is in place, as much as it can be. There's no more waiting. We shouldn't have waited this long to begin with. Mikey gives me another hug, lingering a little longer than he should. He only pulls away when Leo rests a hand on his shoulder. I meet Leo's gaze and it's all that needs to pass between us. I forget my anger in that brief moment. It doesn't matter. I have to depend on him for this. If anyone can do this it's Leo. It has to be. He nods and leads Mikey out of the lab to get the Shellraiser ready.

"We got this, man," Casey says, holding up his hand for a quick fist bump.

"Be careful, ya idiot," I grumble, hitting him a little harder than is necessary.

He rolls his eyes and shakes out his hand with a snicker before slouching off after my brothers. Master Splinter lingers behind. I can't bring myself to meet his gaze. Whatever great and powerful life lesson he thinks he needs to lay out I'm not in the mood to hear it. He rests his hand on my shoulder and I flinch at the sudden contact.

"We will all be home soon, my son," he says with a squeeze of his hand.

Pressure builds at the back of my eyes and I can only nod in response. His hand slips away and I listen to the swish of his robe as he leaves the room before I dare to move or even breathe. I should be going with them. This isn't right. This isn't how things are. I'm the muscle. I fight. I protect my brothers, my family. I can't do that here. I can't do anything here. I grip the edge of the table and grind my teeth. Anger warms bright and familiar in my guts and any hint of tears vanishes with it. The world isn't fair, especially for things like us and I'm not going to sit here and…

"Raph?"

I blink and the red place is gone. Like water over stones. I'm not alone. I'm not the only one who got left behind. She's staring with a determination in her eyes that catches me by surprise. A slight tremble passes across her bottom lip but she clenches her jaw to stop it before it can begin to make her crumble. She isn't going down without a fight. She's strong. I forget that sometimes. We all do, but she isn't going to let us. She's a fighter until the end. She's with us until the end. I understand why he loves her.

"I need to track the others on this screen here," she says, finally standing up. "Can you keep an eye on this one in case…in case his signal comes back?" she asks, unable or unwilling to say his name.

I nod. "Yeah…I can do that," I reply, inching forward on the table and instantly seeing stars. "M-might need that…that chair though," I hiss around a pained grunt I can't keep inside.

She helps me into Donnie's chair. She doesn't say anything when I grunt and wince and start shaking by the end of it. I roll over to the computer screen and stare straight ahead. I try to remember all of Sensei's lessons about control and how pain is only in the mind, but it's hard when it feels like something is trying to rip off my arm and leg from the inside out. I can't focus on that now.

Out of the corner of my eye I see her watching her own screen. Her jaw is still clenched and she's not blinking as much as a person should. She's struggling to keep it together and a tiny wiggle of guilt reaches around from the back of my thoughts. I should say something. If Mikey was here he would say something. He'd make her laugh or at the very least roll her eyes and smile. I'm not Mikey. I know what I should say. What I should have said already. It's right at the tip of my tongue and it tastes bitter.

"April?" I say and her name sounds painful to my ears.

"Uh huh?" she replies, not looking away from the screen.

I shift in my chair, regretting the movement when it jostles my leg. "I…uh…I just wanted to…I mean…ya know, I should…I'm sorry."

There's a painfully long beat of silence and I think maybe she didn't hear me. I'm not going to repeat myself. She sits up in her chair and slowly turns her head to gape at me in confusion. The look makes any guilt I might have felt twist into anger and I settle into a more comfortable scowl.

"What?" I snap. "You've never heard an apology before?"

I wish I could storm out of the room. I wish she would stop looking at me like that.

"That's…I…I guess I'm not entirely clear on what you're apologizing for," she replies and her words are guarded like she thinks I'm luring her into a trap.

I huff and roll my good shoulder, wishing I could crack my neck. "Ya know," I grumble, regretting opening my big fat mouth. "For…for the stuff I said…before…about you," I sigh and round on her when she continues to stare at me with those stupid wide, disbelieving eyes. "About how I said ya don't care about him. How I said you were gonna hurt him. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, all right? Stop looking at me like that!"

She blinks and leans back in her chair. "Oh," she murmurs and the shock dissolves into something just as uncomfortable. "Thank you," she says and the tremble is back and she looks away embarrassed.

I've made a mess of things. I should have kept my mouth shut. It didn't need to be said. I didn't need to apologize. I only made things worse. She doesn't want to lose it. She wants to be strong and I broke down her walls. I'm an idiot.

"April?" I say her name before I even realize I've opened my mouth.

"Yeah?" she replies with a slight sniffle.

I shouldn't. I need to shut up. I'm not helping, but I have to know. It's none of my business. It doesn't concern me. I have no right to ask, but I have to know. I have to know if it can be true.

"You…do you love him?"

She swallows and stares down at her hands. I think I see the tiniest hint of a smile pull at the corner of her mouth, but it's overshadowed by the trail of tears that break free from her eyes. She turns to me with no attempt to hide them. There is no doubt in the sincerity in that gaze. She bites her bottom lip and nods, the tremble turning into a sad, little smile.

"I do," she says around another smile. "Very much."

It seems too good to be true. Things like us aren't meant for that. Our lives are violent and dangerous and hidden underground. We don't get happy endings. Love isn't meant for freaks like us. I swallow, unwilling to accept it but unable to deny the truth in her words.

"And you…you don't care…" my voice falters but I push on. "You don't care that he's different? That he's…not human?"

She sighs and a crease forms between her eyes. When she finally speaks her voice is quiet and each word chosen with careful precision. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me…cautious," she says. "Maybe that's why it took so long for me to get over myself…to admit what I was feeling," she sniffles and the little smile is back. "But, he…he's my best friend. He's always been there for me, and…and I know you think it was me using him, but that isn't it, Raph. That isn't it at all."

I start to argue the point, but she cuts me off.

"And yes he's different but he's also kind and selfless and brilliant," she says the last word with a breathy laugh that quickly falls into a choked sob. "He's my best friend and I need him to come home."

I reach my hand out to rest atop hers. Her skin is warm and soft and even more so when she turns her hand over to take hold of mine.

"Everything is going to be all right," I say and this time it sounds less like a lie.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: A short Donnie POV for you this morning. Some violence ahead if you'd rather avoid such things. **

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><p>Chapter 16<p>

There has to be a way out of here. There has to be a flaw in the system. Everything has a flaw, everything has a weak point. I just have to find it. I pace the length of the tank, pulling as far as the chain will allow. The corners and molding on the ceiling is metal plated and I'm certain the glass is too thick for me to break without some assistance. I can't reach the locking mechanism on the door. I pull and stretch my arms, but I'm still a few feet short. I need to reach it. If I could get my hands on the lock I'm sure I could pick it.

There has to be another way. I'm thinking of this in the wrong way. I need to reach the lock, but I can't reach the lock while I'm chained to the floor. I need to break the chain. I sit cross-legged on the floor to inspect where the chain meets the floor. It's sturdy, too sturdy to pull apart with my hands. I wrap the chain around my wrist and grip the metal links as tightly as I can manage. I dig my heel into the ground for leverage and lean back. The chain groans and for a moment I think it might give. It doesn't and I'm only left with a deepening ache in my hand.

_Can't even break a single chain. Do you think any of the others would still be stuck in here? They'd break that in one try._

My eyes narrow and dig in my heels. I have to escape. I have to free myself. I have to warn the others. They know they're coming. It's a trap. I lean back, prepared for another useless try, but a sharp cry and the unmistakable pop of gunfire sounds somewhere in the distance. It's barely audible behind the thick glass, but I heard it. I know I heard it. I let the chain fall from my hands and climb to my feet. Silence settles heavy for a few, long seconds and I flinch when more gunfire sounds. It's closer this time. Maybe right outside in the hallway. I can't be certain.

_They're here you idiot! They'll never find you. Make some noise!_

"Hey!" I scream, my voice echoing painfully off the glass walls.

I don't care. I scream again, ignoring the pain it sends tearing through my throat. My heart drums out a frantic rhythm in my chest and I pound my fists on the wall in time with each beat. It has to be them. They've come to rescue me. They're going to get me out of here and I can go home. I won't be a lab rat. I won't be sold like livestock. I can go home. They're right outside. They're fighting. It has to be them. I can't stay here, I can't.

"Hey! I'm in here! Leo! Sensei, I'm in here!"

The door opens and I turn, expecting to see a welcoming face. Fredrick and the barrel of a gun greet me instead. My hand stops mid-strike, balling into a fist against the cool glass. There's still so much commotion outside and with the door open I can hear every second of it. His deeply scared face pinches into an awful mask of loathsome excitement. He gives a small wave of the barrel, motioning for me to step away from the wall. He grins when I do as I'm told, holding my hands up with slow, deliberate movements. I can take the gun from him if he gets close enough. I'm stronger than him, I'm faster. Even chained to the floor I can beat him. He's not going to hurt me ever again.

"Do you hear that?" he asks, almost giddy in anticipation. "Looks like the cavalry is here, little turtle."

He takes a step forward and I judge the distance between us. Two more steps and he'll be in arm's length. Two more steps and I can reach him. I can wrestle the gun away and knock him down. I can shoot the chain and run to join my family. Two more steps and I'll be out of here. He stops and for one, shining awful moment I think he can read my mind. The grin is back and before I can avoid getting hit he shoots me with the tiny barbs of a Taser. I convulse and try to fight it, but my muscles won't listen and I crumple to the ground in a twitching heap. He's behind me and through my painful haze I feel the barrel of the gun press into the base of my skull.

"Can you hear that?" he asks again with a chuckle. "Clawing rat feet. He's coming, little turtle and before I kill him I'm going to kill you and make him watch."

_Sensei. Sensei is coming. _

The Taser presses into my flesh once more and I scream. I try not to but my body betrays me. My muscles convulse and spasm and my visions blurs to the point that I can't see. Fredrick laughs and the pressure at the base of my skull grows until it hurts. I try to move my head forward to avoid it, but the collar tightens around my throat and holds me still. I can't breathe. I try to kick my feet or flail my arms but they won't listen. Panic sets in, sharp and unavoidable and all I'm left with is instinct and the useless, non-existent movement in my body. I am not in control.

"I knew you'd come," Fredrick sneers and his voice sounds far away despite the fact that he's right next to my ear. "I knew you'd track this little freak's phone and try to rescue him. Well, you're just in time to see me blow his brains out all over this cage."

_Don't close your eyes. Don't whimper. Face this with dignity. He can't take that from you._

The hammer pulls back with a click and it's the most frightening noise I've ever heard. I hope it will be quick. I hope he's a good shot and I'm not left a whimpering, useless pile of brain matter and skull fragments on the cold floor, begging for it to end. The end doesn't come. The crushing press of the collar around my neck loosens and I fall forward without the support of it. I gasp and sputter and try to roll to one side in a frantic attempt to reach some place safe.

The gun fires, but I'm no longer the target and the sharp crack of glass signals the bullets destination. There's a hiss and growl that seems straight from someone's nightmares and I blink back the blur to my vision. I need to see what's happening. I can't roll around helpless in the dark. I need to get some place safe.

"That…is the last time you touch my son!"

_Sensei!_

Master Splinter has him by the throat. Fredrick's feet dangling and kicking like some horrible marionette. He scratches and pulls at the clawed hand around his throat, his gun forgotten on the ground. Sensei raises his other hand and holds it high above his head. His eyes flicker towards me and the rage behind them softens somewhat.

"Look away," he instructs with a small hint of pleading behind the command.

I nod in reply, turning my head and wincing at the sickening sound of a neck snapping.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"We must hurry," Master Splinter says, anger still clinging precariously to his words.

He kneels beside me, leaning over to inspect the chain. A growl sounds deep in his chest as he pulls a blade from the waistband of his robe. Moving is still a struggle and it takes considerable effort to keep upright. Sensei drives the blade into the lock and with a few quick turns of his wrist it springs open. I slump forward, his hand resting on my plastron to keep me from falling to the floor. The small touch is enough to break my resolve. I reach up and cling to him. Afraid he isn't real. Afraid this is all some elaborate trap.

"On your feet, my son," he says quietly and his arm moves under my own for support. "I need you to be strong. We are not yet safe."

_Stop being a baby. Stand._

I maneuver my feet beneath me and push up with a groan. My arms and legs feel heavy and clumsy, but I'm standing and that's something. The chain is still connected to the metal collar around my throat and I wrap it around my hand to keep it from dragging on the floor. The first steps are more difficult than I anticipate and I need Sensei to keep me on my feet. I don't look down when we pass the crumpled form of Fredrick. Sensei's eyes narrow slightly and his lip curls back in a sneer.

"W-wait," I say, tightening my grip on his arm. "We should…get his ID card."

Master Splinter's brow creases and he merely grunts in reply. I lean against the wall as he drops down to sift through the pockets of Fredrick's jacket. He finds the card and presses it into my palm. I grip it tightly as he drapes my arm over his shoulder again and we move to leave the tank. I don't have time to feel relief or happiness. We're not safe, I'm not safe. Even with my father at my side this could still end badly. We're on their turf and we're outnumbered.

The hallway outside is scattered with the unconscious bodies of half a dozen guards. This was the work of Master Splinter. He reached the tank on his own and the thought makes my anxiety flare. There isn't time for stories, but I have to know. I need to know.

"The others?" I ask in a whisper, looking over the fallen guards for some hint that my brothers had been there.

"They're clearing the way for us," he explains, holding his hand up and stopping to sniff the air.

"And…and Raph?" I ask, afraid to hear the answer.

I must look terrified because his harsh demeanor softens in an instant. "He is home with April. He will be all right."

The weight pressing down on my chest lifts and I take in a sharp breath. Raph's alive. He's home, safe. I want to cry. I can feel the beginning of tears start to push against my eyes as I focus on that one repeating phrase. Raph is alive. Master Splinter tightens his grip and the small squeeze is enough to settle my racing thoughts. We're not safe yet. I'm not safe yet. I have to focus on the task at hand. We inch down the hallway, Sensei checking around every corner.

_Raph is all right. He's not dead. You need to stop her or she'll try again. She'll keep coming. You can't just leave here and let her get away with it._

I dig my heel into the ground and reach a hand out to the wall.

"I…Sensei, I need to get to the control room," I say, barreling on when he makes a disapproving noise in his throat. "If I can reach the security console I can…I can steal the rest of her files. I can shut this place down for good."

He frowns and I can tell he isn't convinced. I try to wiggle out from under his arm and stand on my own.

"She'll keep coming, Sensei," I insist. "We let her go last time and look what happened? I can stop her for good. I know I can. I just need a few minutes with that console."

His frown evens out into a thin press of his lips. He closes his eyes and takes in a steadying breath, his nose twitching ever so slightly as he breathes out. I can't tell what he's thinking, I rarely can. There isn't time for meditation or contemplation and when his eyes open I know he's come to a decision. One I will have to accept no matter what.

"I will give you the time you need," he says quietly with a sharp nod of his head.

_You better not screw this up, Genius._

"Do you know what floor we're on?" I ask, trying to remember the blueprints.

"The tenth."

For once luck is on my side. We're close. The walk is still a struggle. I try not to rely too much on Master Splinter, but by the time the door to the control room is in sight I'm leaning on him and stumbling over my clumsy feet. I lean against the wall for support as he ducks out from under my arm with a silent nod. I hand him Fredrick's key card and point to the scanner attached to the wall. He moves swiftly, confident in every step. He swipes the card and the door opens with a loud hiss.

He makes quick work of the guards inside, the men barely standing up from their chairs before Sensei knocks them unconscious. He drags each one out into the hallway and motions that the coast is clear. I slump against the wall, afraid that if I let go I'll lose my footing. Falling over is the last thing I want to do. He said he needs me to be strong. That's what I'm going to be. I grip the door frame for support. The console glows and hums, taking up the majority of the small room. It's beautiful. I got this.

"I will keep watch," Master Splinter says, handing me the key card. "Move quickly."

"Hai, Sensei," I reply, slumping into the closest chair, trying not to look too relieved to be off my feet.

He slips out into the hallway and I set to work. Maneuvering through the system takes a fraction of the time now that I don't have to worry about covering my tracks. The information is there for the taking. All laid out and wrapped with a pretty bow. The secret files of intercepted Kraang communications are only the tip of the iceberg. From here I can access company e-mails and what appears to be less than legal financial records. She's a business woman after all. She cares about revenue and the bottom line, so that's where I'll hit her. I'm sure the IRS would be quite interested in the more hidden of her accounts.

I'm in the sweet spot. Every click of the keyboard is deliberate and moves me closer to my goal. I move the files around and save them to a flashdrive before leaving a rather nasty virus in their place. If she thought I messed with her system before, she hasn't seen anything yet. They'll be digging through this mess for weeks. That is if she isn't in prison by then. I'll make her life a living hell. I'll destroy what must have taken her years to put together and build. Her biggest mistake was treating me like an animal.

"What…how did you get out?"

_Dammit._

I twirl around in the chair and the movement makes my head spin along with it. How could anyone get past Sensei? I'm prepared for a fight. I grip the arms of the chair in case I have to jump to my feet. Dr. Feinstein stands alongside the opposite wall as though he appeared out of thin air. His hair is more disheveled than usual and his eyes stare at me without blinking. I don't move. I'm not sure if he's friend or foe and I don't know if I have the time to find out.

"My…the others came to get me," I say, trying to gauge his allegiance by his response.

His eyebrows lift and he clutches his clipboard tight to his chest. "There are others like you?" he asks with unabashed wonderment.

"I…I can't…I don't have time for this," I reply, ashamed at how noticeably flustered I sound. "Are you going to turn me in?"

He blinks and rolls his shoulders with that pinched look of anger on his face. "No," he says. "No I'm not, Donatello. I'm going to help you."

I blink and narrow my eyes in suspicion. The look only makes him bristle and his nostrils flair.

"These people are insane and cruel and I want no part of it," he snaps, waving his clipboard at me when I remain silent. "Unless you want me to turn you in? I could start shouting right now if you'd like?"

"No, no," I say with a quick shake of my head. "Please don't."

He lowers the clipboard and settles his shoulders. "All right then," he murmurs, scanning his eyes over the console. "I assume you have a plan to get us out of here?"

"I uh…I'm stealing all of her files and then destroying the entire computer system," I reply sheepishly.

I can't help but feel a twinge of pride when he seems impressed. "Well, you better hurry up," he says, pointing to one of the security feeds. "Seems like they're on to you."

The screen is filled with heavily armed guards in riot gear. I quickly scan the other feeds for any sign of my family, but they're nowhere to be found. I duck my head and get back to work, typing as fast as I can. I'm not sure how long it takes, I lose track of time when I'm absorbed in my work. When the last of the files transfer and the viruses are in place Dr. Feinstein is pacing the small length of the room and wringing is hands nervously. I grip the flashdrives in my hand and turn to him expectantly.

"This way," he says, pointing at what I thought was a wall. "This leads to the maintenance elevator."

My legs wobble as I stand and I take hold of the back of the chair for balance. "Wait, I have to…"

"Hands up freak!"

The unmistakable click of a readying firearm follows the command. A hulking man with a semi-automatic rifle blocks the door to the hallway. He keeps his weapon trained on me as his eyes shift over to Dr. Feinstein.

"You all right, Doc?" he asks. "The freak hurt you?"

"Uh, no, no I'm fine," he says, holding up his own hands. "Don't shoot. Nobody hurt anyone."

The man doesn't have the chance to respond before he's lying in a heap in front of Master Splinter. Sensei steps around him and keeps his hands at the ready as his gaze falls upon the doctor. My father is an imposing figure. I've seen more than one human scream or faint when meeting him for the first time. Dr. Feinstein doesn't do either of those things. His eyes widen slightly and something close to a chuckle tumbles past his lips.

"Oh…well…aren't you just…fascinating," he breathes.

I don't think Sensei takes it as a compliment.

"Are you through?" he asks me, still keeping a wary eye on the doctor.

"Hai, Sensei," I say, grateful for the help when he's once again at my side.

"Wait," Dr. Feinstein says, reaching out to stop me. He doesn't back down when Master Splinter growls at the contact and I must admit I'm impressed. "You have to knock me out."

"I…what?" I murmur. "No, I'm not going to…"

"He saw us in here," he says, pointing at the fallen guard. "If they think I was helping you what do you think they'll do to me? Or to my family?"

"He is right," Master Splinter says and his hand is already formed into a fist.

Dr. Feinstein presses his ID badge on the almost invisible sensor along the wall and the door swings open. "Take the elevator to the ground floor," he instructs. "You can reach the sewers from there. It's not the most dignified escape, but you should be able to get out without being seen."

Master Splinter looms over him and I can't decipher any emotion behind his even stare. "Why are you helping us?" he asks and the suspicion is back.

After all, we're not supposed to trust humans. They hurt you and lock you in cages like an animal.

"Because it's the right thing to do," he replies, sounding insulted that the question was even asked.

They share a look of understanding between them and Sensei bows slightly in gratitude. He strikes the doctor without warning, laying him out with a single blow. He catches him before he hits the ground and rests him alongside the wall. I'll pay him back, somehow. He didn't have to help us. He didn't have to show me any kindness. Humans are supposed to fear us. They use us and lock us away like animals. They hurt us. They hurt me.

_Maybe not all of them._

"This way," Master Splinter says and he's at my side again, helping me through the door to the waiting elevator beyond.

We're almost home. I'm almost home but there's still work to be done before I can rest.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's notes: Donnie POV.**

** I'm happy Dr. Feinstein has been getting some love in the comments section. Without spoiling any plot points let's just say I have some plans for him in the future :0)  
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><p>Chapter 18<p>

We don't encounter anyone on the slow walk to the service elevator. The hallway is narrow and dimly lit with low ceilings that remind me more than a little of a sewer tunnel. The quiet is oppressive, pushing down on my ears and leaving room for my darker thoughts to claw out from their hiding places. I lean on Master Splinter and try to focus on the rustle of his robe as we walk or the quiet hiss his tail makes as it drags behind him. The elevator's control panel beeps as I swipe Fredrick's card through the reader. Gears groan and whir somewhere above and we wait nervously as it moves towards our floor.

"Meet us on the ground floor," Master Splinter says quietly and it takes me a moment to realize he's speaking into an earpiece. "Leonardo? Leonardo, can you hear me?"

More accurately he's trying to speak into an earpiece. I instantly have a flashback of the time I attempted to teach him how to use the blu-ray player. It did not end well.

"No, Sensei, you have to press the button along the side when you want to talk," I explain, sighing when he presses the wrong one. "No, not…the other one, just let me…"

"I know how it works," he insists, snapping his head away when I reach for the communicator. "Leonardo?"

His whiskers twitch. He lifts his chin in a smug smile and I know my brother answered even though I can't hear him.

"I have him," he says, lowering his voice. "Meet us on the ground floor. There is a sewer entrance near the maintenance elevator on the south side of the basement. Avoid any further violence. We have what we came for."

The elevator door dings merrily as the doors slide open. The cheery sound is slightly off-putting considering the situation. I slump against the handrail, every muscle in my body screaming out for rest. We're almost there. I only have to hang on a little while longer and then I'll be safe. I'll be home. The doors close and the mechanisms rumble to life, jostling the car to life before starting the slow descent to the ground floor.

"We may have to fight," Master Splinter says.

He faces the doors, lowered into a defensive stance with his hands at the ready for whatever might wait for us once the elevator stops moving.

_Fight? You can barely stand. You should be ready to drop to the ground and crawl out of the way. Let the real ninjas fight it out._

"Hai, Sensei," I reply, pushing aside my less-than-helpful negative thoughts.

The car jolts to a halt and I push up on the handrail. The doors slide open and I'm ready, as ready as I can be. Nothing but darkness and the all-too-familiar dank of a subterranean space greets us. Master Splinter holds up his hand and moves forward to investigate. I hold my breath and wait for his signal. He sniffs the air and slips into the darkness beyond my sight. Panic flares to life in my chest and I have to bite my lip to keep from calling out after him.

_He's going to leave you. You're dead weight. He's going to leave you here._

I shuffle forward, curling my fingers around the door to keep it from sliding shut. I can't see him. I strain my ears for any sound that might offer some assurance that he hasn't left me. It's absurd. He's a master. I could never hear him moving. My arms start to shake as the seconds tick by and each painful swallow down my bruised throat proves more of a struggle than the one before it. There's a soft thud in the distance, the sound so quiet I'm certain I imagined it. I narrow my eyes. There's something moving towards me in the darkness. Correction, something is running towards me.

_Get out of the way!_

I drop my hand, hoping the door will slow down whatever is charging at me. I'm not fast enough. It hits me in the chest and I stumble backwards until my shell slams against the elevator wall. Pain prickles to life along the crack in my plastron and I struggle to catch my breath from the initial blow as a pair of strong arms wrap around me and squeeze as if trying to wrestle out any remaining air in my lungs. It hurts. I don't care.

It's Mikey.

I cling to him and lean forward, knowing he can handle the added weight. His face is buried in the crook of my arm and I feel the unmistakable warmth of tears against my skin. I close my eyes, affording myself this reunion; needing it. He pulls back with a quiet sniffle, unwilling it seems to let go of me completely. His hands grip my arms and his mouth sets into a frown as his eyes take in the state of me.

We don't have time for anything else. Master Splinter appears in the doorway and it's time to move. Mikey dips under my arm and presses close to my side as we step out into the basement. Master Splinter leads the way darting ahead of us to make sure the path is clear before doubling back and walking beside us. The air is dense, the humidity causing sweat to cover my skin after a few steps. We meander from one dank, humid room to another, each looking identical in the darkness. There is nothing but the quiet groan of pipes and the occasional drip of water in the distance. We are silent. We are shadows. Around the next corner there's a glitter of white eyes in the din; Leo.

He's waiting along the far wall, his shoulder propping up an iron grate. The opening is small, too small to stand upright. Mikey goes first, ducking into the passageway without a word. Sensei helps me kneel and I lean forward onto my hands before crawling after my brother. Every press on my joints causes a fresh stab of pain to shoot out towards the tips of my toes and I long for the added protection of my kneepads. There's a soft clang as the grate closes behind us.

I don't know how long we crawl. It feels like an eternity. My arms and legs tremble with each move forward and I'm afraid if we don't stop soon I am going to collapse. The walls bow out at the sides and the ceiling arches upwards. The sound of rushing water echoes off the bricks and Mikey is on his feet, scanning the room for possible threats. I want to stand. I need to stand. I can't. I crumple to my side in an undignified heap and close my eyes, waiting for some of my strength to return.

"We need to find a tunnel number."

Leo's voice is next to my ear and he heaves me to my feet before I can stop him. My head spins and my stomach gives a threatening roll. I lean on him and breathe slowly through my nose. He's talking quietly to someone but I can't make out the words. It doesn't matter. They have me. They're not going to leave me here. We're going home. Whatever strength or adrenaline or stubbornness I clung to during the escape crashes and I slump forward despite my brother's grunt of protest. Mikey is back at my side and soon I'm draped between the two of them like a turtle ragdoll.

"All right, D. It's just a little bit further. Casey has the Shellraiser a few blocks from here," Mikey assures me. "You can lie down when we get there."

_Casey should not be driving your baby!_

I nod and force one foot in front of the other in a slow, drudging march. Water sloshes beneath my bare feet and the icy temperature riles me from my haze. It's winter. How could I forget that? The humid air of the basement is only a memory now and if the tunnel afforded more light I'm sure I could see my breath. We're near the surface. There's a breeze, the fractured, pungent kind that darts through sewer grates and gutters. The tunnel fills with the brash sounds of the city; car horns and raised voices, sounds so familiar they bring a smile to my face.

"Wait here," Leo instructs and he disappears up the ladder, leaving Mikey to carry the brunt of my weight.

"We are nearly there, my son," Master Splinter says and his hand rests against the side of my face.

I lean into the touch, his fur warm and inviting against the cold. Leo drops down beside us and the comforting hand is gone. We're not there yet. I still have to get up the ladder. It's an embarrassingly long process. My hands refuse to grip the rungs as my feet slip and my knees buckle. I'm too large for any one of them to carry and eventually it takes the combined efforts of both of my brothers, one pushing and the other pulling from above ground to get me topside.

It is dark out and cold. Large, fluffy snowflakes glisten in the dreary glare of the streetlights. It could be raining frogs and I wouldn't care. I'm free. I'm outside. I take in a deep breath, the cold air stinging my lungs. Mikey catches me as I list precariously to one side and I give him a squeeze as an utterly exhausted chuckle escapes my lips.

_You're delirious._

The Shellraiser is parked further back in the alley and I resist the urge to hug her. The doors open with a ding and Casey leaps out.

"We gotta motor," he says, waving us in with spastic flails of his hand. "It's all over the news. They've got the place taped off for blocks, calling it a hostage situation."

Mikey and Leo help me into the Shellraiser, easing me to the floor. The doors slide shut and the engine roars to life. I rest a hand on the metal side of the vehicle, the reverberation a methodic comfort. My eyelids are heavy and it no longer seems imperative that I keep them open. Mikey sits down beside me and the warm press of him beside me eases away some of the fear and panic that continues to cling to my thoughts.

"Donnie…we're going to move you now, all right?"

_You fell asleep! What were you thinking? That's when they get you! They're going to hurt you!_

My head snaps up from my chest and I kick out my feet in a blind panic. There's a metal wall behind me that clangs as it comes in contact with my shell. I can't breathe. The collar is still around my throat and the chains rattle. Animals wear chains.

"Donnie, whoa, easy, man. It's all right. You fell asleep. You're home, it's all right. You're safe."

Mikey's face comes into focus and I struggle through a few ragged breaths before I can manage to steady the frantic beating of my heart. I'm in the Shellraiser. They rescued me. I didn't dream it or imagine it. I'm home. They didn't leave me.

_Say something. You're freaking them out._

"S-sorry," I murmur, the word turning into a painful cough. "Startled me."

"No worries," Mikey replies with a relieved sigh. "Come on, let's get you inside."

I don't know how long I've been away. I don't know how many days have gone by. It can't be more than a week. The lair hasn't changed. There is no reason that it should have. It hasn't changed, everything is the same, I know it, but it feels different all the same. I'm not ready to admit that maybe I'm the one who has changed.

"Donnie?"

Raph is hobbling towards me. His color is off, one arm hangs in a sling and another leg is wrapped in white bandages. He shouldn't be out of bed. He's going to pull his stitches. I'm about to chastise him. It's a gut reaction, but his hug stops me short. Even one handed it feels like it's crushing my shell.

"I'm sorry," he grumbles and the words catch in his throat until he's pulling back with a cough and a drag of his hand under his nose.

"It's all right…I'm all right," I say, feeling dangerously close to letting my own voice waiver.

He pulls me into another hug and soon Mikey joins the pile until Master Splinter quietly insists that I might need some air. Raph begrudgingly releases his grip, rolling his uninjured shoulder and shifting on his feet struck uncomfortable by such a display of emotion. Casey nudges him in the arm and the two share a celebratory fist bump. There's a tiny intact of breath, it's quiet and gentle and instantly sets my heart racing again.

She's in my arms before I even register seeing her. I hold her close and lower my chin to rest atop her shoulder. I tilt my head to take in her scent and the warmth of her radiates through every part of me she touches. I lean over to find her lips with mine and I don't care that the others are watching. I don't care if this will mean an embarrassing lecture in the near future. I have to kiss her. I can't not.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: I figured Donnie could use a little rest from the angst.**

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><p>Chapter 19<p>

The bathroom tiles feel cold and rough beneath my bare feet. The room is heavy with steam and I breathe in deep, relishing in the warmth of it. Mikey helps me across the room to the old tub. He hasn't left my side since our reunion in the elevator. He sat quietly in the lab as Master Splinter looked over the more pressing of my injuries and kept a steady hand on my shoulder while Leo sawed the collar from my throat. None of them asked me about its origin or for any details of the last few days. I'm grateful. I'm not ready to talk about it.

Mikey lowers his shoulder and grazes his hand through the water to test the temperature. He gives an approving nod and keeps a steadying hand on my arm as I bring my leg over the side of the tub. I sink down into the water and lean my shell back against the porcelain wall. The temperature is blissfully hot and a thin cover of bubbles floats atop the surface. Mikey pulls a stool over and dips a loofa beneath the water, wringing out some of the water.

"Mikey," I say, rolling my head over and begrudgingly opening my eyes. "I appreciate the help, really, I do, I just…I need a couple minutes," I say with a sigh. "Just a couple."

He crinkles his face into a frown and squeezes the loofa. "All right," he says, not sounding too thrilled about the prospect of leaving me alone. "But I'm going to check on you in twenty minutes," he drops the loofa and points at me. "And if you need anything you call for me, all right? I don't want you trying to get out of the tub and falling. You call me if you want out."

"I promise," I say, leaning back against the tub wall.

"All right," he grumbles with a pout, climbing to his feet. "You want the heat lamp on?"

"Yes please," I murmur, already dangerously close to sleep.

He shuffles across the room on feet he refuses to pick up. "I'm not locking the door," he says and I can hear him pouting. "So don't even ask."

"That's fine," I say, fishing the loofa out from under my left knee.

The door closes and I'm alone. The heat lamp hums overhead and the water laps against the side of the tub with any movement I make. I bring my knees up out of the water and set to the task of cleaning myself. The stench of the tank still clings to my skin. I know smell is closely linked to memory, but I'm unprepared for the sudden pull of sights and sounds better left forgotten. I drop the loofa into the water and instinctively raise a hand to my throat, half-expecting to find the collar back in place. I wince when my trembling fingers touch bruised skin instead.

_Get ahold of yourself._

I take in a breath that shakes around the edges and press my palms against my eyelids until I see stars. I'm home. They saved me and I'm home. I'm safe. I drop my hands, splashing water over the side of the tub as I reach for the soap Mikey left on the stool. I scrub at every inch of skin I can reach, determined to wash away any lingering reminder of my captivity. I hiss when the loofa moves across bruises and abrasions. I don't care. I need to get clean. I lean forward to start in on my ankles and feet when the creak of the bathroom door sounds behind me.

"I told you I'd call if I needed help. That wasn't anywhere close to twenty minutes," I say, scrubbing the heel on my left foot until the skin reddened.

The lock on the door falls into place and the sound sends a fresh wave of panic coursing through my veins. I whirl around my voice catching at the sight of April standing just inside the threshold. She leans over and takes off her sneakers and socks before traversing the wet floor over to the tub. I sit up straight, instinctively gathering some of the bubbles over myself.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asks, already taking a seat on the stool.

I shake my head no. "No, I just…I thought you were Mikey."

"I copied all the files on the flashdrives," she says, taking the loofa from my hands. "Casey is bringing one to Mr. Kurtzman. When you're feeling up to it you can go through the data, see if there's anything worth sending to the authorities."

"Good," I reply, leaning forward as she gently washes the back of my neck. "Thank you."

We slip into a comfortable silence. The slow, methodical movement of her hand over my skin and shell coupled with the general warmth of the room has my head bobbing against my chest in a matter of minutes. I take in a deep breath, the tightness in my chest loosening when I only smell soap and a hint of wildflowers. Her hands slide over my shoulders and her voice is soft beside my ear.

"Sit back."

I do as I'm told, sliding further down into the warm water. Her hands go away and a pout settles on my lips. I force my eyes open, peering over the edge of the tub to investigate.

_Oh._

I am now very much awake. April stands beside the tub and pulls her shirt over her head, sending her hair cascading down about her bare shoulders. The heat of the room makes her skin flush and I have a sudden desire to investigate every little freckle. She catches me watching and my face burns around a sheepish grin. She laughs and makes a show of wiggling out of her jeans, nearly tripping over them as the left leg catches on her foot. She flails and kicks it away before striking a pose and raising an eyebrow just daring me to laugh.

"Very smooth," I say, smirking when her face falls into a scowl. "Elegant even."

"Shut up and scoot back," she snaps, already lifting her leg over the side of the tub.

_If Master Splinter catchers you…_

"April…" I say, very much torn between the fear of punishment and the great want for her to join me in the tub. "I don't know…"

"I locked the door," she says, cutting me off. "Mikey is making you something to eat," she adds, slipping into the water and leaning forward to lie against my plastron. "I just…I need to be with you."

Her head leans forward to rest on my shoulder and the fear of being discovered is suddenly the last thing on my mind. I wrap my arms around her and lose myself in the soft warmth of her body pressed against my own. There are no searching hands or kisses, just a quiet embrace that means more to me in that moment than I think I even realize. My eyes drift closed and I gently nuzzle her head, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her. I want to stay like this forever, but soon the water has grown cool only kept lukewarm by the heat of the lamp above us.

"I'm all pruney," she says with a quiet chuckle, holding up her fingertips for me to see for myself.

"It's a good look on you," I reply, lightly kissing the tips of her fingers and delighting in the tiny flush it sends across her cheeks. "We should probably get out," I add, not sounding too convincing.

She leans back and the lack of her body against mine sends a chill through me. She reaches forward to take hold of my face and I think she's going to kiss me. Instead she forces my gaze and I start to squirm under the strength of it.

"Never scare me like that again," she says sternly and there's a wildness and stubborn glint in her eyes that dares me to cross her.

"I won't," I say even though it's a promise I can't possibly keep.

Our lives are messy and dangerous and this won't be the last time something awful happens; probably far from it. She sighs and presses her forehead against mine. I can feel her breath against my cheek and I reach a hand up to rest along the curve of her neck. She shivers and searches out my gaze once more.

"Good," she says. "Because I love you."

I'm dreaming. I fell asleep under the heat lamp and this is all a dream; a wonderful, incomprehensible dream. It has to be. I don't get what I want. I don't get the happy ending or the girl. I get kidnapped and chained to a floor like an animal. Maybe I'm still there. Maybe I fell asleep and…

"Donnie?"

I take in a sharp breath, unaware that I had stopped breathing in the first place. She's staring at me and my face burns with embarrassment.

"I…you…what?" I murmur, needing her to say it again, needing to know that I didn't imagine it.

"I said I love you," she replies and she lowers her gaze to hide her eyes behind a curtain of soft red lashes.

_Say something! Quit staring at her like a weirdo! Tell her you love her too. What are you waiting for?_

"I love you too!" The exclamation comes out almost as a shout and she pulls back startled.

_What is wrong with you?!_

I cringe at my own ineptitude and whimper apologetically. "I…sorry…I mean, I didn't mean to shout…I just…"

She saves me any further embarrassment with a kiss and I love her just a little bit more. The kiss is slow and tender and I move my hands up her back, tracing the curve of her spine with my fingertips. She shudders and sighs against my mouth, pulling back only enough so we part. Even with her still so close the cold is creeping in and I know she notices the slight shiver that plagues my arms. She smiles and I'm struck with the painful realization of how close I came to never seeing that smile again.

"Come on," she says and her hand falls to take hold of mine. "You must be starving and it's getting cold."

Getting out of the tub is more of a struggle than I would like to admit and without the heat of the lamp I'm shivering like a leaf. I snag the large beach towel from the hanger and drape it around my shoulders and shell. I turn to afford April some privacy as she dries off and pulls on her clothes.

"Guess I didn't really think that through," she says with an embarrassed laugh, nudging her wet underclothes. "I'll have to sneak them in the dryer."

"I can cause a diversion if you'd like?" I offer, still grinning like an idiot from her proclamation of love.

"How about you go to the kitchen and get something to eat," she says, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss me on the cheek. "I'll grab a sweatshirt or something from your room."

I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her close for a proper kiss. She's warm and lovely and she said she loves me. This wonderful, smart, beautiful person said she loves me. I tighten my grip, afraid if I let go it won't be real. That she'll realize her mistake and try to let me down gently. I pull back from the kiss to nuzzle against her neck, my voice steady and sincere and lacking all of the ridiculousness of my previous exclamation.

"I love you," I say, meaning it more than anything I've ever said before.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note: A short Mikey chapter for you, full of feels and brother times. Enjoy!**

**Also, thank you everyone who commented on the last chapter, I was a bit nervous it was too sweet, but I'm glad people seemed to enjoy it. :0)**

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><p>Chapter 20<p>

Michelangelo

"All right, so you have your T-Phone and I left a glass of water on the nightstand if you get thirsty," I say, tapping my finger on my chin in thought. "I could get you an extra blanket if you want. Are you cold?"

He shakes his head and grips the edge of the quilt already covering his bed. "No…no I'm not cold," he says quietly.

He fidgets, grimacing at the small movement. He stares up at the ceiling with his mouth pressed into a line that crinkles at the edges. It's the look he gets when he's upset. I thought things were going to be all right. When he hobbled into the kitchen with a grin, followed by April with suspiciously damp hair; I thought he was going to be fine. They held hands under the table and he actually ate some food without arguing about it. But, April is gone now and so is the grin. He's not ready to talk about whatever they did to him. I won't force him. He'll talk when he's ready. It still hurts though, to watch him suffer. I want to help. I want to make everything all right and I want to chase away that haunted look in his eyes. If it was me he would fix things. He would know what to do.

"All right," I murmur, my hand resting on the doorframe. "Do you want the door opened or closed?"

He fidgets again and his brow creases in thought. "Oh…uh, I don't know, um open, I guess. Yeah…don't close it," he says.

A slow swallow follows his words making him wince in pain. My chest tightens and I push back the urge to cry. Crying won't help anything. It'll only make things worse. I tighten my grip on the doorframe and clear my throat. I don't speak until I'm certain my voice won't waver.

"Donnie?"

"Y-yeah, Mikey?" he says and I have to strain my ears to hear the quiet reply.

"Uh, would it be all right if I stayed here for a while?" I ask, leaning forward. "I won't make any noise, I promise. I just…I'd like to stay for a bit, if that's okay."

I need to make him think this is for me, because I know he doesn't want to be alone, but he'll never say it. He doesn't have to. I've known him my whole life, I know when he's hurting. He's too proud to ask for help. I'll give it anyway. We're a team. That's what brothers do. There's a tiny sniffle and the slightest of nods and I feel the weight in my chest lift. I keep the door open a crack and pad across the room to the bed.

"Scoot over," I say quietly, climbing up to sit beside him.

The mattress groans and the blankets ruffle as he inches over to make room. I sit with my back against the headboard and my legs stretched out in front of me. I'm about to say good night or make a joke, something, anything, to chase away the uneasy quiet. I don't get the chance. He rolls onto his side and wraps his arms around me, burying his face into the crook of my arm. My chest tightens again when I feel the warmth of his tears against my skin. I take in a breath and rest my hand atop his head. My throat closes and I can't fight back the sting in my eyes.

"It's all right," I murmur, sniffling back the worst of my tears. "You're all right. You're home…you're safe now. We're not going to let anything hurt you."

He nuzzles further into my shoulder and his breath comes out in painful sobs. I rest my chin a top his head and continue to assure him that he's safe, the words like a mantra in one of Master Splinter's meditation exercises. I don't know how long we cling to each other. It feels like an eternity, my heart breaking just a little bit more with each sob, but eventually his breathing evens out. He sniffles and runs a hand under his nose with a grimace that is more than a little embarrassed.

"I…I'm sorry," he whimpers around another sniffle.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for," I reply instantly.

He nods and doesn't argue with me, for which I'm grateful. We fall into another stretch of silence. His tears have dried but he hasn't moved from my side, still clinging to me as if I'm the only thing keeping him grounded. I hate seeing him like this. I hate that someone brought him this low. He doesn't deserve it. He sighs and turns his eyes down, pulling up the quilt to fumble with the frayed edges.

"April…April said…she said she loves me."

I blink and crane my neck to try and force his gaze. "That's…that's great, Donnie," I say with a tiny smile. "Isn't it?" I add when he refuses to look at me.

He nods, but his bottom lip trembles until he bites down on it. "Y-yes…yes, it's," he sighs and the force of it moves his entire body. "I've waited…I've wanted this, I've wanted her for…for so long and she…she finally said it, Mikey and I didn't…she said it first, all on her own and I should be…I should be happy, I am happy. I just…" he trails off. He swallows and closes his eyes, his grip tightening. "I don't want to think about what happened in that place and I…I can't, I can't get away from it. I know I'm safe here, but I can't…I'm sc-scared and it's…she's still hurting me, Mikey. She's tarnishing something that should be…that's wonderful and I…" he trails off again and buries his face once more.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I ask quietly.

I want to take away some of the burden. I want to carry it for him. I want to fix things. I can't do any of that and it hurts, but I can be there for him. I can do that. He shakes his head no and nuzzles just a bit closer. I squeeze his arm and close my eyes before any more tears get the chance to fall. I have to be strong.

"All right," I say, opening my eyes. "But, if you ever want to, if you need to, you can tell me. I'll listen."

He sniffles and sighs. "Thanks, Mikey."

"No problem, D," I say and offer a smile I hope is comforting. "We're a team, right?"

He nods and tries his best to smile back in reply. I appreciate the effort. I reach down and pull the blanket up to cover his shoulders.

"Try to get some sleep," I say, keeping my voice calm and steady. "I'll stay up and keep watch if you want. All night if I have to. You're safe, I promise."

He sighs and this time his shoulders relax. He's exhausted both mentally and physically and even Donnie can't stay awake forever. His eyes close and he shifts to find a more comfortable position. I lean back against the headboard and listen to his breath even out in time with the ticking of the wall clock. I'm humming before I realize I'm doing it, the gentle sound warm and comforting in the dark room. Donnie shifts and asks around a yawn.

"Is that the _Jurassic Park_ theme?"

"No…of course not," I reply, waiting a few seconds before making a chortled raptor noise.

He lets out a tiny, snort of a laugh and it makes a grin spread instantly across my face. I look up at the sound of the door creaking open. Raph stands on the threshold, blocking most of the light from the hallway. He leans heavily on the doorframe and even in the dim light I can see the pained grimace on his face. He should be in bed. He's still hurt, no matter what he says. I'm not about to tell him that. He wouldn't listen anyway. He'll learn when he pulls his stitches again. I sigh and wave him over. He stares at me for a long moment and I think he's going to walk away, but he proves me wrong.

"You should be sleeping," he grumbles, dropping onto the bed with even less grace than usual.

"Look who's talking," Donnie mumbles, but his voice is already starting to sound far away and he fights back another yawn.

Raph grumbles something about being fine, but the argument loses some of its steam when lying down causes him to bite back a whimper. He carefully moves onto his side and drapes an arm over Donnie's shell. We used to sleep like this all the time when we were younger; a pile of limbs and shells. Back then it was often a thing of necessity; a way to keep warm during the winter or a way to stay safe before we found the lair. I think it's like that tonight; a necessity. I only wish Leo was here too.

"Glad you're home, Brainiac," Raph mutters in his best attempt at being sincere.

"Me too," Donnie replies and nothing else needs to be said.

I keep my word and stay awake long after the two of them have drifted off to sleep. Sometime after the clock passes midnight Leo checks in on us. I give him a wordless smile when he silently crosses the space from the door. He sits in the chair beside the bed and rests on hand on my shoulder. He nods and I know he's offering to take up the watch. I yawn and flash an appreciative smile, snuggling down under the covers and trying with limited success to block out Raph's snoring.

I wake with a start, surprised that I fell asleep so quickly. I shimmy, turning my head, pinned under Donnie's arm and Leo's shell on either side. I blink back the fuzziness of sleep, trying to catch a glimpse of the clock. My gaze settles instead on the stoic form of Master Splinter sitting in the chair beside the bed. His whiskers twitch when he catches me watching him. I smile sheepishly. His head lowers in a nod and I let my head fall back against the pillow, nuzzling into the soft, warmth of our make-shift nest. He'll watch over us. He won't let anything bad happen. My eyes drift closed again with a content sigh knowing that we're all home safe.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Notes: Ooh, boy this chapter was seriously almost the death of me. I don't think I've ever had as much trouble getting my thoughts out on this story (except perhaps for the Leo chapter). Anywho, angst ahead sprinkled with some sweet moments as well and some actual plot development. Crazy, right? This might be the last chapter for this story, (I have a possible epilogue but that might get pushed over to the next one) but fear not I have more things planned for the future of this little universe if you feel like sticking with me :0) I can promise you awkward smutty times, some Raph/Casey shenanigans, the return of Dr. Feinstein, perhaps some much deserved lovin' for Mikey and if I can get my ducks in a row some actual development for Leonardo. **

**Enjoy! And a big thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story for this long. Seriously, you guys rock.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 21<p>

_Click. Click. Click._

It should feel good to be in my lab. This is where I live. This is where I belong. I've been home for days now, but I still can't shake the lingering fear and anxiety that lurks behind every thought. The daytime is easier. I throw myself into my work like I always have. The files I stole from the security console are taking longer to sift through than I originally anticipated. I don't mind. It gives me something to focus on, keeps me busy. I need to stay busy. It makes the days easier and the night anything but.

When the computer screen has faded to black and I don't have the calming, repetitive click of the keyboard to distract me I'm left at the mercy of my own thoughts. The squirming black cloud I manage to hold at a distance while I work wraps around me and makes my chest tighten until breathing becomes a struggle and my skin seems to burn from the heat of my shame. Mikey stays with me. He doesn't make me ask for the company, for which I am grateful. I want him there, I need him there, but my pride and my shame keep me from saying it out loud.

I shouldn't let the fear win out. I shouldn't let her continue to hurt me when I'm home, safe and in one piece. She can't hurt me here. I'm safe. I know this. Logically I know that if I'm alone in my room and I close my eyes there won't be someone waiting to pounce. I'm home. I'm safe and yet the thought of letting my guard down, of drifting off to sleep without one of my brothers keeping watch fills me with a fear so bright and all-encompassing that it makes my body tremble from the force of it.

I should be in control. A ninja is always in control of his mind and body, but I am not. Far from it, and the truth of that realization only sends my shame burning brighter, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I try to hide it. It's easier in the daylight when the shadows and darkness don't trick me into thinking I'm camouflaged. In the darkness when I can no longer hold back the tears that threaten to push past my reserve throughout the day. Mikey won't say anything. He won't tell anyone how far from in control I've slipped. I'm grateful for his silence, but it doesn't make any of it all right. It doesn't excuse my behavior.

_It doesn't make you any less pathetic._

I take in a long, slow breath. In through my nose and out through my mouth, just as Master Splinter taught me. It settles the worst of my thoughts after a few more breathes and when I open my eyes I spot Mikey watching me with concern. He's sitting on the ground in front of the small television I hooked up to his game console, his controller dangling from his hand forgotten. I offer a shaky smile that does little to alleviate the distraught look in his eyes. He knows me better than that.

"I've found the company's financial records," I say, hoping if I start a conversation he won't ask if I'm all right. "Seems they've been selling some of the tech and communications they intercepted from the Kraang to less than reputable buyers. I'm sure the authorities would love to have that information."

Mikey nods and his face squirms into an empathetic grimace. "I don't think the Kraang will be too pleased about that either."

_Not too pleased at all._

I blink and I feel the ever-present weight on my chest lift ever so slightly. "No…I can't think that they will be," I say quietly. A chuckle escapes my mouth and I feel as surprised as Mikey looks to hear it. "Maybe they'll go after the company."

_Maybe they'll go after her._

"Maybe who will go after the company?" Raph asks from the doorway.

"The Kraang," Mikey replies. "Once they realize they've been selling their tech and secrets to the highest bidder."

"Huh," Raph grumbles.

He starts to hobble over to the computer desk, letting out a snort of bitter laughter in an attempt to hide the pinched look of pain on his face. "Would serve her right," he says, slowly easing himself into the chair beside mine. "Hope they blow up the whole building."

_Click, click, click._

"I'll send this stuff to the proper authorities. Let them deal with it," I say, dropping my head to type faster. Raph bites back another grunt of pain. "You shouldn't be out of bed," I say instinctively.

He laughs and pushes my shoulder. "Like you're anyone to be telling me when I should and shouldn't be out of bed."

My face burns with embarrassment and I keep my gaze fixed on the screen. "Fair enough," I mumble, clearing my throat when he laughs again.

I can practically hear Mikey grinning and I'm sure he thinks it's a step in the right direction that we're laughing and teasing one another. Maybe he's right. It is certainly better than the alternative. Raph snaps his fingers and motions for Mikey to hand him the other controller. Soon they're engaged in a rather heated battle of _Super Smash Brothers_ and I return to my work with their colorful commentary as welcomed background noise. I lose myself in the work. Sending off the damning financial records to any law enforcement and governmental agency I think might take an interest while covering my tracks. I stick to the shadows, just like Master Splinter taught us. I sit up straight, cracking my stiff neck and resisting the urge to roll my eyes at the sight of Raph's subdued victory dance; always the gracious winner.

"You guys hungry?" I ask, pushing away from the desk with a squeal of protest from my old chair.

"We can't eat yet," Mikey says, too loud and too fast for the response to be anything but suspicious.

"Why not?" I ask slowly, narrowing my eyes and giving him my best disapproving Leo look.

He squirms and stares down at the controller in his hands. "Uh, I dunno," he mumbles. "I'm not hungry."

"You're always hungry," I say, crossing my arms and tapping my foot.

He squirms some more and chews on his bottom lip. "Not always," he replies, instantly losing his credibility when his stomach gives a loud rumble. "I promised her I wouldn't tell!" he says, slapping his hand over his mouth to stop from saying anything else.

"Come on, let's go watch T.V.," Raph mutters, draping his arm over my shoulders. "Just act surprised when April gets here."

I haven't seen April since that night and the promise of a reunion is enough to start a soft fluttering in my chest. I must be grinning because Raph rolls his eyes and lightly smacks me upside the back of the head.

"Nice poker face, lover boy," he says with a snort, turning a warning stare at Mikey who obviously intends to help him stand. "I can do it myself."

"You sure about that?" Mikey asks, wincing as Raph bites back a grunt of pain.

He slides under Raph's good arm and slowly helps him to his feet. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone you needed help," he says with a cheeky grin that earns him a growled 'shut up, Mikey,' for his troubles.

I follow close behind. My steps still slightly guarded as my joints and muscles haven't lost all of their aches and pains, but at least I can move on my own. I feel a small sense of pride at my mobility. It's not much, but it's an improvement and I will take what I can get these days. The couch is still a welcomed sight and I sink down onto the lumpy cushions and hug a pillow to my chest. Mikey eases Raph down beside me before rolling over to the television to snag the remote. We settle into one of those old, corny horror movies with the giant bugs and cardboard buildings. My eyelids grow heavy and my head drops down against my chest. I look up with a start at the sound of the turn-style.

_April!_

I turn around, gripping the back of the coach and knocking Raph's feet off my lap in the process. Leo, April and Casey make their way through the turn-style bundled up against the cold and their arms full of grocery bags. I feel a grin work its way across my face again. Snowflakes still cling to the purple winter hat covering April's hair and I barely resist the urge to leap over the couch and twirl her in the air.

"Hope you guys are hungry," Casey says, shaking the snow from his hair like a dog ridding its fur of water. "We've got enough food for an army."

Mikey scrambles over his makeshift nest on the floor, hurrying over to them to investigate the food. He takes the bags from April's arms and she offers a smile and thank you in gratitude. She unfurls the scarf from her neck as she walks towards the couch. I sit up, keeping my eyes open until our lips touch. The kiss is brief and sweet and leaves a lingering hint of her scent on my skin.

"Hey," she says quietly, her snow-chilled skin turning pink under her freckles. "How are you?"

"Better now that you're here," I reply, ignoring the snort of laughter from Raph.

"Move over," Casey says, vaulting over the back of the couch to sit next to my brother.

They share a series of half-hearted punches and insults before ending in a head-butt and shared growl.

_It's like being at a zoo._

"Help me with dinner," April says, her hand searching out my own.

Mikey and Leo are already in the kitchen when we get there. Mikey has an apron tied around his waist and is excitedly pawing through the grocery bags.

"Any trouble topside?" I ask Leo, my anxiety making an unwelcomed return.

"All quiet," he says with a shake of his head.

He pulls out a rather pungent wedge of cheese and places it on a tray next to a waiting teacup. "Mikey and I will patrol tonight," he adds when Mikey pouts in response. "Just a quick sweep. We need to get back into a routine."

I don't disagree. Nice, boring routine sounds peaceful compared to the turmoil of the last couple months. Leo waits for the water to boil before filling the small, clay pot beside the teacup and heaving the tray into his arms. I'm sure Master Splinter will appreciate the cheese, but I can't say I'm not happy when Leo takes the stinky food out of the kitchen. I take a seat on one of the stools and watch Mikey and April unpack the rest of the food and animatedly discuss their plan of action for cooking. I laugh as Mikey goes into a very detailed argument for why we should start the meal with dessert, complete with shadow puppets.

"Guys! Get in here!" Raph bellows, making us all jump and April drop a jar of pickles.

The mess forgotten we all hurry into the other room. I assume the worst and any calm I felt with April's presence leaves in a rush. My chest tightens and I grip her hand as we walk. Raph and Casey are both sitting on the edge of the couch, gawking at the television with matching blank stares. On screen a well-coifed news anchor is blathering on about the state budget.

"What's with all the yelling?" Leo demands, practically marching out of the dojo with a disapproving scowl on his face.

"Shut it," Raph snaps with a wave of his hand. "They said they're going to talk about her."

He doesn't say her name. He doesn't have to. We all know who he means. My chest tightens further and I struggle to take in my next breath. April's grip tightens as well and she moves to stand closer. I try to focus on the warmth of her at my side and force a slow breath in through my nose.

"It's going to be all right," she whispers, giving my hand a squeeze.

The picture cuts away from the news anchor to a reporter on the street in front of building I am not ready to see. I can't focus on his words, his voice fading into a low buzz. I want to turn away. I look down at April's hand in mine and try to steady my breathing.

"Oh my God," she murmurs and I force myself to lift my gaze up to the screen.

I take in a sharp breath. The reporter is gone, replaced by footage of Amelia Zhao being ushered through a crowd by several dour-faced men and women in flak jackets and sunglasses. She tries to cover her face as she ducks into a squad car amongst the shouts of gathered reporters and the flash of cameras. The picture cuts back to the reporter and I try to focus on his words.

"The Zhao Brandt Corporation has yet to comment on these new criminal allegations as their CEO Amelia Zhao has been brought in for questioning."

"Looks like Kurtzman's contact at the station took the story and ran with it," Casey says with a nervous laugh. "She's gotta be so pissed to be hustled into that squad car."

"Deserves worse," Raph growls, both of his hands balled into fists.

"She'll get worse once they sift through all that stuff Donnie sent them," Mikey says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Even her fancy lawyers can't argue against all that evidence."

A rush settles on my ears and my vision shrinks to a point. I have to get away. I pull my hand from April's grasp and stagger on increasingly unsteady legs to my lab. I can feel them watching me. I don't care. I don't offer an explanation. I couldn't if I wanted to. I struggle to close the door behind me, leaving it half-open as I rush over to my computer desk. I fall to my knees and press into the space under the desk, pulling my knees up to my chest. I can't breathe.

_She's going to get you. What were you thinking? Of course she's going to retaliate. This was stupid, you're stupid. She's going to capture you and lock you back up in that tank where you belong; monster, freak._

"Donnie?"

_Then she's going to kill your family and it will be all your fault._

"Donnie."

I recoil at the feel of skin against mine, the start causing me to let out the breath I've been holding. April's face comes into focus and I pant and stammer and curse the feel of warm tears sliding down my face. She inches forward and wraps her arms around me as best she can in the small space. I bury my face in the crook of her neck to breath in her scent and hide my shame.

"It's all right," she murmurs, her kisses feather-light against the side of my face. "It's all right. We're safe and that horrible woman is going to get what's coming to her."

I don't know how long we stay there huddled together. I don't want to let go. I don't want to face everyone after breaking down so completely, but I can't escape the inevitable. I lean back with a sniffle, unable to look her in the eye. My body aches from tensing my muscles and exhaustion plagues even the slightest of my movements. Her hand lingers on the side of my face and I nuzzle against the touch.

"I…I'm sorry," I whisper.

"You don't have anything to apologize for," she replies, brushing her thumb along the skin just beneath my mask. "It's going to take some time, but you'll get through this," she leans in to rest her forehead against mine. "I'll help in any way I can and your brothers and Master Splinter, we're all here for you. You don't have to go through this alone, Donatello."

I nod and swallow past the lump in my throat. I try to muster a reply, but the words come out a stuttering mess so I settle on another nod. She leans in to kiss me and I meet her lips with a sigh.

"I love you," she says quietly, the words mingled with a sigh of her own.

I cup her head with my hand, the scars along my wrist and thumb looking all the more gruesome when contrasted with her beauty. Those three small words settle the tremble in my limbs and something close to happiness builds in my chest. She's right, of course she's right. I'm not alone. I'm home, safe with a family that loves me. She can't hurt me anymore, only if I let her. Only if I let the dark thoughts win out. I can be in control. I can get through this. I have help and there's no shame in taking it. I need her to know, to understand. I'm not broken. I can get through this. It will not get the better of me. Everything is going to be all right.

"I love you," I reply and add with a resolute nod. "I got this…we got this."

She smiles and the dark thoughts scurry just a little further away. She leans forward and meets my determined gaze with one of her own. "There you are," she says in quiet awe.

There I am.


End file.
